Together in Spirit
by LyricalSinger
Summary: Now that Lancelot has been exiled from Camelot, will the budding friendship between Lancelot and Merlin survive? (A/N: please note there will be very light, "blink-and-you'll-miss-it" type slash at the end of this story)
1. Chapter 1

Summary: Now that Lancelot has been exiled from Camelot, will the budding friendship between Lancelot and Merlin survive?

A/N: As this is my very first 'chapter story', it had to be about my absolute favourite pairing: Lancelot and Merlin. Special thanks to sarajm for her wonderful beta skills and for hand-holding above and beyond the call of duty.

A/N #2: The title comes from a quote about friendship by Lucy Maud Montgomery: "True friends are always together in spirit"

* * *

Together in Spirit

" _Perhaps you were right, Gaius. Perhaps I should have never got involved."_

 _"No Merlin, I was wrong. Lancelot needed you and you needed Lancelot. Your destinies were entwined."_

 _"Will he ever return?"_

 _"That I cannot say."_

 _"Till next time then, Sir Lancelot."_

* * *

It had been just over two weeks since Merlin had stood on the battlements with Gaius and watched Lancelot ride away. As he carried out his daily duties, Merlin couldn't help but feel a little jealous of the adventures that were waiting for his friend, but he also found that he missed Lancelot's presence.

Though they had only known each other for a short time, a special bond existed between the two men. After all, Lancelot had saved Merlin's life, and Merlin had done the same, in turn. More importantly, Lancelot knew that Merlin had magic yet he was willing to keep the young servant's secret. That, above everything else, endeared him to the warlock.

One advantage to having magic was that Merlin was able to use a locator spell to seek out his friend. Needless to say, he'd not told Gaius what he'd been doing. He knew the physician would say it was an "inappropriate use of your magic, Merlin."

While Merlin would never use his magic to spy on Lancelot, it was a comfort to him to know where the young man could be found. In fact, Merlin had decided that, although Lancelot would not be permitted to return to Camelot – at least while Uther was still in charge – there was nothing to stop them from communicating in the old-fashioned way. He'd write a letter!

Another week had passed before Merlin was able to find some time, when he wasn't too exhausted, to sit down with parchment and quill. Merlin was still in the training phase of his employment as Arthur's manservant. He'd never performed half the duties being demanded of him, so it often took him longer than usual to get things completed to Arthur's demanding standards. Added to that were the tasks he performed as Gaius' apprentice. And, on top of all everything, Merlin spent most nights sitting in his room pouring over the book of spells Gaius had given him, trying to absorb as much information as he could about his magic. Exhaustion seemed to be his normal state of being recently.

Finally, though, Merlin had a free evening and he wasn't going to let anything disturb him. Sitting down at the table in Gaius' rooms, Merlin sharpened the quill and set a small bowl of ink near his right hand.

Merlin was determined to keep the budding friendship between him and Lancelot alive, but he wasn't sure whether the dark-haired man felt the same. Merlin sat, staring at the blank parchment before him, tapping the feathered end of the quill against his lips, as he tried to figure out what to say in his letter.

Gaius was working on a draught on the other side of the room, and could see his young ward out the corner of his eye.

"Is something wrong, Merlin?" the physician asked.

"What?" asked the lad in a distracted tone. "Oh, sorry, Gaius. No, everything's fine. It's just … I'm trying to write a letter to Lancelot and I wasn't sure how to start."

"Well, you could always try 'Dear Lancelot'" answered Gaius with a smirk.

Merlin grinned at his mentor and turned backed to the parchment before him. He sat quietly thinking for a few more moments, then dipped the quill into the ink and began:

 _Lancelot_

 _I hope this letter finds you well and keeping out of trouble. Fortunately it wasn't too difficult for me to find out where you were at the moment, so hopefully you'll receive this letter quickly._

 _Things here in Camelot are fine. I'm still learning all the duties required of me as Arthur's manservant … and sometimes I feel as though my brain will explode from all the teeny, nit-picky little things I've got to remember about caring for Arthur's armour, to how he likes his wardrobe arranged, to his favourite foods … but I've not made too many mistakes yet, so I think I'm doing okay. Gaius has begun teaching me how to make some of the simpler draughts and I'm really enjoying learning all he can teach me. Unlike Arthur, Gaius is patient and answers all my questions without huffing or groaning at me like I'm an idiot!_

 _What have you been up to since you left Camelot? I know your plan was to start from scratch. Have you made any decisions about where you'd like to start honing your swordsmanship? Honestly, any Lord would be lucky to have you as part of their retinue … after all, I saw you best Arthur!_

 _Well, that's about all I've got to say at the moment, other than to apologize again for what happened. I hope that, in spite of everything, you still wish maintain our friendship. I'd really like it if you wrote back to tell me what's happening with you, but only if you feel like it of course._

 _Your Friend,_

 _Merlin_

With a satisfied sigh, Merlin folded the letter and sealed it. He'd already made arrangements with a travelling merchant to deliver it for him, so he headed out to the tavern to hand it over.

As he made his way through the Lower Town towards the tavern, Merlin couldn't help but wonder whether he was being a bit naïve at trying to keep in touch with Lancelot. Even though the swordsman had said that he in no way held Merlin responsible for what had occurred, the lad still felt guilty. After all, if things hadn't turned out as they did, Lancelot would still be in Camelot and he wouldn't be concerned that his actions had ended their friendship. Hopefully this letter would help repair whatever breaks that might have occurred between them.

Stepping into the tavern, Merlin saw Arthur sitting at one of the tables with a few of the Knights. Afraid that if he was seen Arthur would assign him some task that needed handling immediately, the warlock hugged the wall as he carefully made his way across the room to the merchant who was seated at the far end of the bar, all the while trying to avoid Arthur's line of sight.

The merchant was just finishing up his tankard of ale as Merlin appeared at his side.

"Whoa there, young man; you startled me. Wait, you're the one who wants me to deliver a letter for you. I hope you've got it ready, as I'm heading out at first light."

"Yes, I've got it here. I really appreciate you doing this for me," said Merlin as he handed over the folded parchment and watched as the older man secreted it in the leather pouch hanging at his side.

Merlin then tried to hand over some coins as payment, but the Merchant refused saying, "No, no, young man. You keep your money. It's only a letter and it's no trouble for me to deliver it for you."

"Thank you," said Merlin with a smile, "but at least let me buy you a drink," he added as he signalled the barkeep.

"Well, I'll never say 'no' to a free drink," answered the man with a smile of his own. Raising his now-replenished tankard, he wished good health to Merlin before taking a large swallow. "Excellent ale, here," said the merchant as he smacked his lips together.

"Thanks again," said Merlin as he took his leave, "and safe travels."

 _That's done_ , said Merlin to himself as he wandered through the lanes and made his way back to the castle and his bed. _Now I'll just have to wait to see if I get an answer_.

* * *

It was coming on to the middle of April and spring had brought many extra duties not only to Merlin, but to all the castle inhabitants. The fields were being prepared for planting, and the stench of manure hung in the air like fog. Sheep manure may be the best fertilizer, but it certainly gave off a rank odour. Merlin didn't mind it too much, though; in fact, the smell sort of reminded him of spring back in Ealdor. At least here he wasn't needed in the fields from dawn to sunset!

Still, Merlin was kept busy, what with his regular duties for Arthur and Gaius and the extra hours spent helping to prepare the castle for the upcoming Spring Gathering. Each year, at Beltane, the King hosted a feast for his nobles and the Knights, and everyone pitched in to make sure that Camelot looked its best and most impressive for the event.

After a day spent running around – Merlin had been up and down so many stairs that his calves were complaining – he finally was able to bid Arthur good night and seek his own bed. He made his way through the hallways half-asleep and wanting nothing more than to collapse on his bed and sleep for twelve hours.

Fate, though, had other plans for the young man. On entering the rooms he shared with Gaius, the physician handed him a mug of cool, clear water and a folded and sealed piece of parchment that bore his name on the front.

"This arrived while you were out," said Gaius with a smile. He knew that his young ward had been worrying that he'd not received any news from Lancelot, and so was very happy to be able to give him this particular letter. "Don't stay up all night reading. You look exhausted," he added as he took himself off to bed.

Merlin quickly drained the mug and placed it on the table, all the while holding the letter close to his chest. "I won't Gaius. I promise. Good night!" he said as he bounded up the small set of stairs to his room, filled with renewed energy. Merlin didn't see the gentle smile that graced Gaius' face as he responded, "Sleep well, my boy." He was too intent on staring at the parchment clutched in his hand.

Merlin toed off his boots, pulled off his socks, and quickly divested himself of his jacket and neckerchief. Making himself comfortable on his bed, he slipped his forefinger under the seal, breaking it with a _crack_. Opening the triple-folded letter, he placed it on the bed in front of him and smoothed the creases with his hand. A little afraid to see the contents, he took a deep breath and began to read:

 _Merlin,_

 _I was very happy to get your letter. I'm sorry it's taken me so long to write back, but I've been quite busy. I've signed on to act as guard for a caravan of merchants and will be doing a bit of traveling over the next few months. I heard about the position from one of the present guards who is leaving and when I showed them my skills, the merchants were willing to sign me on. The others in the party are all knights errant, and one of them has agreed to work with me to improve my hand-to-hand combat skills._

 _It certainly sounds from your letter that both Arthur and Gaius are keeping you busy. I'm glad that you're enjoying learning_ _everything_ _that Gaius can teach you. Healing is an important skill to have._

 _As I mentioned, I am going to be traveling for the next two months, but I do hope you write back when you've got the time. I've made arrangements with the innkeeper and he's agreed to store my extra gear and collect any messages for me during my absence._

 _Take care of yourself in the meantime … and you try keep out of trouble as well!_

 _Your friend,_

 _Lancelot_

After having read Lancelot's letter twice, Merlin leaned back against the wall, smiling widely. He was relieved not only to find that his friendship with Lancelot was still intact, but also that Lancelot's plans for his future seemed to be bearing fruit.

The life of an itinerant swordsman was difficult and fraught with danger, but Merlin was fully aware of Lancelot's capabilities and the fact that he also seemed to have made contact with someone who could help him with his plan to become a great all-round combatant made the lad very pleased for his friend.

Merlin looked over to his room's small window. From the bed, his only view was of the night sky, but he could see that the moon was full and bright and the sky was clear. Merlin sat still for a few moments, thinking about everything that Lancelot would be experiencing in the next weeks and sighed quietly. _I should be thinking about what I'll be experiencing in the next few days rather than Lancelot and his travels_ , he thought to himself with an amused snort.

That thought suddenly brought home to Merlin how late it was, and realizing that he'd need to get some sleep to be able to function the next morning, he quickly picked up the letter and, folding it back up, gazed around the room at his few possessions trying to decide where to place the letter for safekeeping. His eyes fell on the small chest located at the side of his bed and, leaning over, he flipped open the lid and carefully laid the missive inside.

The young man closed the lid, giving it a gentle pat, and then snuggled down under his blanket. _I'll have to write back soon_ , was his final thought as he drifted into the arms of Morpheus.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: I should mention that, by the end of the story, there will be some very light, "blink-and-you'll-miss-it" type of slash.

As per usual, brilliantly beta'ed by sarajm.

* * *

 **Together in Spirit -** Chapter 2

It was mid-June when Lancelot found himself once again on the outskirts of the town of Bystoke, in the Kingdom of Caerleon. He had spent a gruelling couple of months on the road, protecting the merchants' caravan from marauders and highwaymen. The days had been long, and the nights spent keeping watch even longer, so the young swordsman was very happy that his contract had been fulfilled and he could now rest. Best of all, he had money in his saddlebags and could purchase such extravagances as a hot bath and a decent meal.

Lancelot rode up to the Inn sitting at the far end of the town and as he leaped from his saddle, a young lad of about nine years old came running out from the small stables at the side of the main building and reached for his horse's reins.

"Will you be staying the night, sir?" the boy asked as he waited for Lancelot to unstrap his bags from the saddle.

"Yes, probably a few nights in fact." He gave his mare, Ailen, a quick scratch between her ears and a pat on her neck before adding, "Take good care of her, lad. She's had a hard couple of months and has carried me safely on a long journey."

"I will, sir, I promise. I'll even give her some warm mash as well as hay," answered the boy before he led Ailen away. Lancelot watched the two for a few short moments before shifting his saddlebag to his shoulder and entering the Inn.

It was early afternoon, so the barroom was deserted save for a few elderly men who were seated around one of the far tables playing a dice game. Lancelot glanced their way; he had become so accustomed to scouting out everything around him over the past months that even now he was giving the room the once-over, unconsciously seeking the exits and ensuring everything was in order.

He approached the bar, which was being tended by a young woman and, placing his bags on the floor beside him, ordered a tankard of ale. After having taken a long swallow, he smiled at the barmaid and said, "Good afternoon. My name is Lancelot. I stayed here in April and made arrangements with the Innkeeper to have my goods stored. Do you know where I can find him?"

The girl put down her drying cloth and giving Lancelot a grin she said, "Hi. I'm Karina. You're looking for my Uncle, Franklin. He's off running errands at the moment, and he left me in charge. But I know who you are; Uncle told me he was storing some of your spare gear. I know where it is, so if you don't mind waiting a couple of moments I'll have Greg fetch it."

"Thank you, Karina, that's very kind of you. But, I was wondering … do you have a spare room that I can hire for a couple of days? I've been traveling for the past few months, and right now I'd like nothing more than the opportunity to sleep in a real bed with a real pillow for a few nights."

Karina laughed and said, "Now that I can certainly understand. We do have a couple of rooms free, so if you want, I'll have Greg take your bags straight to your room."

"One other question: Do you have bathing facilities here?"

"Yes, we do. If you head out towards the stables, there's a small hut with a brazier and a water barrel. You can bathe there."

"That's wonderful. Now, which room will be mine?"

"I'll give you the room at the very end of the hall, upstairs. It's a bit on the small side, but it will be quiet so nothing should disturb your rest."

"That sounds perfect, thank you," answered Lancelot as he picked up his saddlebags and headed towards the stairs at the far end of the barroom.

"Oh," called Karina as Lancelot started to move away, "Just a minute. There's a letter for you. Uncle kept it locked in his chest; he figured it would be safer there than with your belongings." Karina quickly reached under the bar and pulled out a small wooden chest. She unlocked it, flipped up the lid and pulled out a piece of folded parchment, which she handed to Lancelot. "There you are."

Lancelot took the letter with a smile. Though he had only seen Merlin's writing once before, there was no mistaking his distinctive "L"s so Lancelot knew who had sent this missive.

By the time he'd changed out of his dusty clothing and enjoyed a leisurely bath, Lancelot was feeling like a new man. Fortunately, he'd been able to soak away some of the pains that he'd accumulated over the months of his recent work as man-at-arms.

The trip had been successful, but not without some peril. In fact, only two nights ago, they'd been attacked in their camp by a group of about 12 bandits. Lancelot and his fellow guards had very handily protected the caravan, but not without incurring some damage. Nothing major, but he'd still come away with several bruises and a large wound on his ribcage. One of the bandits had been lucky enough to get in under Lancelot's guard and had slashed him with a knife. The wound was not deep, but it was long and quite painful. Fortunately, he'd been able to bandage it immediately and one of the merchants had offered him a salve to help prevent infection. The wound was still quite raw, but it was healing well so Lancelot did not worry too much.

The sun was setting, but his room was still bright enough that he did not need to light any of the candles that had been provided. He pulled the room's only chair over to the window and sat in a beam of the dying sunlight, with Merlin's letter laying in his lap. Lancelot made himself comfortable, and opening the letter, he read:

 _Dear Lancelot,_

 _It's been about six weeks since I received your letter, so you must be almost finished your contract and should be returning to Bystoke in the next few weeks. You'll have to tell me all about the work. Did it go well? Have your hand-to-hand combat skills improved? Will you sign on with the merchants again, or will you be looking to head some other place?_

 _It has been very busy in Camelot recently. There was a terrible sickness that ran through the Kingdom and despite Gaius' hard work, many died. Lancelot, why is always the very young and the very old who suffer the most? I mean, I_ _know_ _that the oldest and the youngest are the weakest and so when they catch whatever it is that is going around, it hits them the hardest. But, the little babies who died … they'd barely begun to live. It's just not fair._

 _Anyway, things got so bad that Arthur released me (temporarily of course, because who'd find his socks if not me!) from my duties with him and told me to help Gaius in any manner I could. So, I spend days pounding herbs and making poultices and draughts and trying to get the sick to at least drink some water. There were so many people ill that the King even told us to use the Small Hall as a hospital room._

 _Gaius is amazing! He knows so much about treating illness, and even though we both spent long hours treating everyone, he was always kind and cheerful when he was talking to the sick. I learned so much just watching him._

 _Once everyone was on the mend, I was so tired that I slept for almost 24 hours! What a luxury that was._

 _Fortunately, though, everyone pitched in to help in whatever manner they could; we even had a few of the Knights helping Gaius move the sick to the Small Hall._

 _Things have finally returned to normal. I'm back to picking up Arthur's clothes and cleaning his armour, in between studying with Gaius. The weather has been beautiful recently, sunny and warm. The kitchen gardens are my favourite place to be right now – the smell of the earth, the bright green of growing herbs, the fluffy carrot tops poking through – it reminds me of Ealdor. I do miss spring in Ealdor._

 _Well, that's enough for now; I've just been summoned to Arthur's chambers._

 _Write to me telling me about your trip and what your plans are._

 _Your friend,_

 _Merlin_

As he re-folded the letter and tucked it into his saddle bag beside the first one he'd received from Merlin, Lancelot considered what he'd just read. It was obvious his young friend was feeling lost and homesick and that concerned Lancelot. In the short time they'd spent in each other's company, Merlin had always been cheerful and full of fun and good humour. It seemed to Lancelot that this was definite departure from his friend's usual manner and it left him a bit worried.

Lancelot was stuck between a rock and hard place: He wanted to help his friend, but he was banned from Camelot for the foreseeable future. _What can I do?_ he wondered. Nothing immediate came to mind, and just then a low rumbling sounded from the vicinity of his stomach. The aromas that had been wafting up the stairwell and through the hallway were certainly enticing and Lancelot recalled with pleasure the last meal he'd had here – roasted rabbit with vegetables and some delicious warm bread. Abandoning his musings, the dark-haired swordsman quickly stowed his gear, closed and barred the door to his room and made his way down the stairs and into the barroom for dinner.

The next morning, Lancelot lay in his comfortable bed and pondered how he could help his young friend. What he really wanted was to be able to speak with Merlin in person, but as he wasn't allowed to return to Camelot maybe he could come up with another solution. Merlin had mentioned to him at one point that Arthur did allow the young warlock to return to his home village of Ealdor on occasion to visit his mother. _Maybe_ , thought Lancelot, _we could meet up in Ealdor_.

That thought reminded Lancelot of one of the inn's other guests with whom he'd been talking the previous evening. The man, Harold by name, had mentioned to Lancelot that there was a minor Lord in the Kingdom of Essetir who had started up what could best be described as a "training school" for young men who wanted to improve their skills with the sword, the lance and other weapons of war.

According to Harold, Lord Markham was always seeking men who could teach the various skills to the youths who arrived for training, and when Harold had heard of Lancelot's recent adventures with the Merchants' caravan, he'd encouraged the young man to travel to Lord Markham's estate and see for himself what was going on there. Lancelot fully admitted that the idea of a training school was an interesting one … very much a throwback to the Roman times, and he was intrigued. Best of all, Ealdor was in Essetir, so if he was very lucky, Merlin had not yet headed home for a visit and they could possibly meet up in the near future.

Lancelot spent the next couple of days in Bystoke, relaxing, recovering and generally enjoying some peace and quiet before packing up his bags and journeying on to Lord Markham's Estate in Essetir.

The night before he was scheduled to leave, Lancelot sat down at the small table in his room and wrote to Merlin.

 _My dear friend,_

 _First off, let me say how sorry I am that you (and Camelot) had to go through what you did. While I was traveling with the Merchants, we'd heard rumours of a terrible illness making its way through the Kingdoms. I can only say that I'm so glad you did not end up getting ill, though it sounds like it was a miracle you didn't, considering how busy you must have been._

 _My contract is done and it went very well. The merchants were very happy with the protection we provided, and I did learn some new skills from my fellow guardsmen. I also learned some new uses for some of the herbs and fungi that are found in the woods around here. One of the merchants had some basic training in medicines, and he was more than happy to pass on his knowledge. In fact, he showed me how to make the most wonderful salve to help keep away infection. Unfortunately, though, I came to know its benefits first hand as I was slightly injured a few days ago when we were overrun by bandits._

 _There's no need to worry Merlin, I'm fine. One of the bandits managed to mark me with his knife but the wound is healing very well, mostly due to the properties of the salve. I'll be sure to give you the recipe, in case Gaius hasn't already heard of it._

 _I heard that there's a Lord in Essetir who has started a sort of training school for young men who wish to improve their sword skills or learn how to properly use other weapons. According to a traveller I met, Lord Markham is looking for instructors, so that's where I'm headed next. I'm very interested to see the facilities and the students they have. If it looks interesting, maybe I can get hired on (and learn some new skills as well). Even if that falls through, I do plan on staying in Essetir for a bit._

 _You had mentioned to me that Arthur allows you time to return home to Ealdor to visit your mother. Ealdor happens to be on the way to Lord Markham's estate, so if you are planning a trip home, let me know and maybe we can arrange to meet somewhere._

 _You know how to find me, so when you get a spare moment, let me know what your plans are. Hopefully we can get together soon._

 _Lancelot_

Lancelot folded and sealed his letter. He'd already made arrangements with Franklin to have the letter forwarded to Merlin in Camelot. Now, he could only hope that his young friend was not already on the road to Ealdor.

After having dropped off his missive with Franklin, and enjoying a mug of mead, Lancelot returned to his room to get some sleep, as he and Harold were planning on departing very early the next morning. Lancelot's last thought before he drifted off was _Good night, Merlin_.


	3. Chapter 3

Special thanks to sarajm who, even though she is incredibly busy with RL, managed to find time to beta this chapter!

* * *

 **Together in Spirit** – Chapter 3

" _You had mentioned to me that Arthur allows you time to return home to Ealdor to visit your mother. Ealdor happens to be on the way to Lord Markham's estate, so if you are planning a trip home, let me know and maybe we can arrange to meet somewhere._ "

Merlin reread the last part of Lancelot's letter and grinned. He'd not yet been back to Ealdor to visit; now, he'd be able to see his mother _and_ hopefully spend some time with Lancelot as well.

Merlin folded up the latest missive and as he placed it in the trunk beside the first letter, he starting thinking on the best way to approach Arthur to ask for some time off to return to his village.

Noises from outside his door alerted Merlin to Gaius' return from his rounds in the Lower Town, so the young man bounded down the five steps that led to the main chamber and quickly relieved the physician of his medicine bag and the satchel he had hanging off his right shoulder.

Watching his ward with a look of fond amusement, Gaius said, "Merlin, not that I'm complaining, but what's gotten into you? You look like the cat that stole the milk."

Merlin grinned at the physician and, laying aside his burdens, he launched excitedly into some story, out of which Gaius was able to pick out what he thought where the words "Lancelot", "Ealdor", "school" and, possibly, "meet", but not much else.

"Hold on a minute, Merlin," he laughed, raising his hand. "I don't think you took a single breath during that whole speech. Why don't you start over … slowly."

Merlin flushed red and after taking a breath and slowing releasing it, he began his tale again.

"While you were out doing your rounds, I received a letter from Lancelot. In it, he said that his contract protecting the caravan had gone very well; he also said he'd been slightly injured but was well on the way to recovery when he wrote."

Turning to his mentor with a furrowed brow, he added, "Somehow I think it's much more serious than a 'slight' injury, Gaius. I'm a bit concerned. What if he was seriously hurt but he's trying not to worry me by telling me that he's fine?"

"Merlin, while it's fair to say that neither of us know Lancelot very well, from what we've seen of him do you honestly think he's the type of person to lie to you like that? You've got to trust that when he says he was only slightly injured and is recovering, he's telling you the truth."

"That's true, Gaius; I wasn't thinking," said Merlin. "Anyway, Lancelot heard about a Lord in Essetir who is starting up a training school for young men who want to improve their fighting skills, so he's on his way there to see what it's all about and hopefully get hired on as a teacher," concluded Merlin.

"That's excellent news, Merlin. I'm very pleased for Lancelot," answered Gaius. Then with a thoughtful look, he added, "But that can't be the full explanation for the grin that is currently plastered across your face. What else did he say?"

Merlin laughed out loud and added, "I know where Lord Markham's lands are, and Lancelot will have to pass by Ealdor on his way. Which means …"

"Which means," interjected Gaius, "that you may be able to meet up with him in Ealdor as you haven't yet made your biannual visit home."

"Exactly!" exclaimed Merlin. "Now, I've just got to figure out how to get Arthur to agree to let me go soon. I'm going to need a good reason for visiting now, as planting season is over, but the crops aren't ready for harvesting. And I certainly can't tell him that I'm planning on meeting up with Lancelot."

"I'm sure you'll think of something, Merlin. You always do," said Gaius with a smile. Then he muttered under his breath, "for better or worse."

"Pardon?" asked Merlin. He had been busy replenishing Gaius' medicine bag had not heard what the man had said.

"Nothing, nothing," said Gaius and he began emptying out his satchel. "You know, Merlin, you could always try the truth. Arthur knows that you and Lancelot are friends, and I'm sure he won't begrudge you either the visit with your mother or the chance to see Lancelot."

"Yes, but … I know Arthur regrets the King's actions, but it wouldn't look good if someone finds out that his servant is friends with a man recently banished from Camelot," responded Merlin. "I'll give it some thought, though, before I speak with Arthur."

* * *

The next morning, Merlin was up with the birds. Well, actually, to be honest, he hadn't really slept at all. Merlin had spent the night lying in his bed trying to come up with a rational reason as to why he must head home to Ealdor in the next couple of weeks. He'd had plenty of ideas, but each was crazier and more involved that the previous; in the end, he decided that Gaius was right. He should just tell Arthur his true reasons for wanting to head home sooner rather than later. But a little buttering up couldn't hurt, could it?

Merlin quickly jumped out of bed, pulled on his clothes and quietly crept down the stairs and through the main room, trying not to disturb Gaius' sleep. The young man had a plan: first stop, the stables.

The dew was heavy on the ground as Merlin made his way down the wide stairs and across the courtyard towards the stables. The air was still and Camelot was oddly quiet; the rooster had not yet crowed and the only people Merlin saw were a couple of the stable lads and the dog-boy heading off towards the Royal Kennels.

Approaching the stables, Merlin saw the Stable Master standing in the doorway, a steaming mug clutched in his hands.

"Merlin! This is a surprise; I don't usually see you 'round here this early. Is the Prince wanting his horse?" said the older man.

"No, everything's fine," confirmed Merlin. "I couldn't sleep so I decided I'd be productive instead and come down here to brush Hengroen and clean out her stall."

"Well, don't let me stand in your way," said the older man with a laugh. "You know where everything is. But don't worry about feeding her. I'll get one of the lads to fill her trough when you're through."

"Thanks," said Merlin with a smile as he entered the warm, shadowed stables and gave a brief wave to the two stable lads cleaning out the stalls. Merlin picked up a curry comb, a brush and a hoof pick before heading down the wide aisle towards Hengroen's stall.

Just as the servant was reaching towards the rope that was hung across the opening, Hengroen turned and, after giving the young man a gentle butt with her head, proceeded to lip at his pockets looking for her treat. Merlin never arrived without something - an apple, a carrot - in his pockets for the mare. Laughing, Merlin handed over the apple and after giving her an affectionate scratching between her ears, he proceeded to brush and curry the animal until her coat shone like silk.

Once the horse was done, Merlin moved her out into the passageway and got to work on mucking out the stall and replacing the hay. As he pitched in the last forkful of fresh hay, one of the stable lads came by and said, "Merlin, if you want I can take over now; I don't mind. You've done all the hard work, so the least I can do is put Hengroen back in her stall and give her breakfast!"

"Thanks, Alwin, I appreciate it," said Merlin as he gave the horse a pat on the neck before returning the grooming kit to the store room and heading out the stables and back towards the castle.

Merlin had been in the stables for a little under an hour, and in that time Camelot had awoken. The quiet and calm of earlier was gone; now there were servants bustling around performing their morning duties, a few of the shopkeepers were getting ready to open their stalls for the day, and the overnight guards were being replaced by the morning shift.

Knowing he still had some time before Arthur would need to be woken, Merlin then headed towards the armoury, intent on cleaning and polishing Arthur's armour and sword. Polishing armour was definitely not one of Merlin's favourite tasks, but with a goal in mind, he figured it would at least make the boring job slightly less tedious. On entering the armoury, Merlin found a clear table where he could work, then proceeded to spread out Arthur's armour, together with the cleaning paste, a cleaning cloth and a dry, soft cloth for polishing the cleaned armour.

Merlin was almost finished when the door to the armoury swung open and a couple of squires entered the room, laughing and joking.

"Merlin," said one of the young lads in a surprised tone, "what are you doing here so early?"

Looking up from his task, Merlin grinned at the two squires and waving the gauntlet grasped in his left hand, said, "I'm just finishing up Arthur's armour. Oh, this bowl of polishing paste is almost empty, so you'll need to get another one if that's what you're planning on doing right now."

Gerald gave a sigh and moaned, "That's exactly what I've got to do this morning. Sir Jasper's armour looks like he rolled around in the mud, so I think I'm going to be here a while."

Merlin laughed and standing up said, "Here, you can take my place." After putting away Arthur's armour, he slapped Gerald on the back and said, "Good luck with that mess, my friend."

"Thanks _so_ much, Merlin," responded Gerald with a snort.

After leaving the armoury, Merlin's next stop was the kitchens to pick up Arthur's breakfast. _Maybe, if I'm lucky_ , thought the young man, _Cook will be in a good mood and I can get something special for Arthur this morning_.

While still a corridor away from the kitchens, Merlin's nose started twitching and he took a deep breath and smiled. The aromas wafting from the kitchens were certainly enticing; in fact, it smelled like Cook had been baking some of her special fruit pies. Merlin stepped into the large, busy room and stood to one side, out of everyone's way. The place was bustling and as he looked around hoping to catch someone's attention he saw on a table a collection of fruit pies. One of those would be a perfect addition to Arthur's breakfast.

Holding court over the mass of pots, pans and assistants, Cook was in her element. She flitted from here to there, with spoon in hand, barking orders and tasting everything. She looked up and, seeing Merlin standing quietly in the room, hurried over.

"Merlin, good morning," she greeted. Merlin knew he was one of her favourites, considering she was always giving him an extra roll, or bit of cheese, or a slightly overcooked pastry.

"Good morning!" responded Merlin. "I'm here to pick up Arthur's breakfast. I was wondering if … maybe … well, you see ….," stuttered the young man.

"Out with it, Merlin. I haven't got all day," said the Cook, her gruff words at odds with her smile.

"Okay, well, I've a favour to ask of Prince Arthur this morning and I was wondering if possibly this morning's breakfast could be extra special. I mean, I know your breakfasts are always wonderful but ….," he trailed off.

"Let me guess, you just want to be sure Arthur says 'yes' to your request," responded Cook.

Merlin did not say anything, but had the grace to look embarrassed.

"Not to worry, Merlin. I'll put together a breakfast fit for a Prince!" She picked up a platter from the table near the door and then proceeded to place on it some freshly-baked rolls with butter, some sliced meats, some cheeses, a selection of fruits and not one, but _two_ of her fruit pies. Handing the heavily-laden platter to Merlin she said, "This should do the trick, young man!" She then handed Merlin a slightly overdone fruit pie wrapped in a napkin and said, "Here, enjoy."

Merlin gratefully took Arthur's breakfast platter, stuffed his fruit pie into his pocket for later and hurried through the corridors towards Arthur's chambers.

When his quiet rapping received no response, Merlin eased the door open and peered in. _Good_ , thought the servant, _he's still asleep_. Merlin entered the room and after laying out the prince's breakfast, the young servant then drew open the heavy drapes and called cheerily, "Good morning, Arthur. Time to get up. It's going to be a beautiful day and I've got your breakfast ready."

A moan sounded from the bed, but soon enough the covers flew back and Arthur sat up, running his hands through his hair. "Good morning, Merlin. You're in a good mood this morning. What's brought this one?"

Merlin grinned at Arthur and said, "I'm usually in a good morning in the mornings, Arthur. Unlike you!"

"Stuff it, Merlin," responded Arthur with a smirk as he stood up and headed towards his desk which was now covered with a collection of breakfast foods, and a cup of cool, clear water.

Arthur was surprised at the bounty before him; usually breakfast was a couple of pieces of fruit and a roll. This was a feast spread out before him!

Looking over at his servant, who was now digging through the wardrobe and pulling out clothing for the day, Arthur asked, "Merlin, why is breakfast this morning so sumptuous? I'm not arguing, mind, but usually you bring me something much simpler. Wait … are these Cook's fruit pies?!"

"No reason, Arthur," responded Merlin as he turned around holding a red shirt. As he gestured towards Arthur with the shirt, Merlin continued, "I just thought you deserved a nice breakfast this morning, and Cook had just made some fruit pies, and I thought you'd like one before they all disappear."

Arthur waved his hand at Merlin, which the young man took to mean that the red shirt was fine for today; he then watched with amusement as Arthur proceeded to dive into his meal, thoroughly enjoying it from the look on his face.

Merlin finished laying out Arthur's clothes and went to stand in front of Arthur, looking expectant.

Feeling eyes on him, Arthur glanced up from the fruit pie he was presently devouring to his manservant and raised his eyebrows in query.

"I'm waiting for you to give me my list of tasks for the day," said Merlin.

"Oh … well then ...," responded Arthur as he swallowed the last bit of pie and pushed himself back from the desk. "I need you to polish my armour," he began.

"Already done," responded Merlin.

Arthur was a bit taken aback, but continued, "You will have to take care of Hengroen and muck out her stall."

"Did that first thing this morning," came the response.

Arthur raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Really? Well then, you'll need to sharpen my sword …"

"Did that while I was cleaning your armour," interjected Merlin. "Oh, and I also wrote the speech you'll need to give at the cattle judging this afternoon."

"Okay Merlin. What's going on?" asked Arthur. "You've already cared for my horse this morning, polished my armour, sharpened my sword, written a speech that I didn't ask you to write and brought me this frankly incredible breakfast. What do you want?"

Merlin's cheeks grew rosy and he said, "Couldn't I just be showing you how efficient I am as your servant?"

"Really Merlin? You? I don't think so. You want something, so out with it," answered Arthur with a grin.

"Well, actually …," began Merlin.

"Hah! I _knew_ it," crowed Arthur.

"I was hoping that you'd let me travel home to Ealdor in the next few weeks so I can visit my mother and …"

"And …" said Arthur as his servant failed to continue his request.

"… and I'd also get the opportunity to see Lancelot. You see, he's going to be in Essetir for a while and I was hoping that I'd get the chance to meet up with him."

Arthur smiled gently at his manservant. He was coming to discover that Merlin had a gentle heart and was very caring of his friends.

"Merlin, listen, you didn't need to worry about asking if you could go home and spend some time with your mother. I won't say I don't appreciate all you did this morning, but it wasn't really necessary. You can leave for Ealdor after the knighting ceremony scheduled for the end of next week, and I should be able to spare you for 10 days. Will that suffice?"

Merlin grinned at his master and said, "Arthur, thank you so much. That is perfect as it will give me time to get a message to both my mother and Lancelot and they'll know when to expect me."

Glad to have been able to do something nice for his servant, Arthur waved his hand towards the young man and said, "Shoo. I'm sure you've not yet had breakfast so go eat something and I'll see you on the training grounds in one hour."

Watching the young man scurry out of the room with a final, "Thank you!", Arthur grinned at the his young servant's enthusiasm and proceeded to get dressed and ready for the day.

* * *

Later than evening, Merlin sat down at the worktable in his rooms and, pulling a piece of parchment towards him, wrote a letter to his mother telling her that he'd be home for a visit by mid-July.

With one letter finished, he then proceeded to write to Lancelot.

 _Dear Lancelot_

 _I will admit that I was very concerned to hear that you were injured during your duties guarding the caravan, but I trust that when you said that you were recovering, that was the truth. I'll be very upset with you if, when I see you in Ealdor, it turns out you weren't being quite honest with me._

 _Yes, we can meet up in Ealdor! I spoke with Arthur today and he's letting me out of my duties for 10 days in mid-July so I can visit with my mother and hopefully meet up with you at the same time. I've got to stick around Camelot until the end of next week – Arthur needs me to help out at a knighting ceremony – but once it's over, I'm free to head home!_

 _I know where Lord Markham's estate is located, and it's only about an hour's ride from Ealdor, so once I've arrived home, I'll let you know. Good luck with that, by the way. I'm sure you'll impress everyone and they'll be anxious to hire you on. Arthur mentioned that he'd like to have your impressions of the training school … I think he's interested in setting up something similar here, if it seems feasible._

 _I really hope that you'll be able to get an afternoon to come to Ealdor; I would love for you to meet my mother, Hunith. I know she's going to like you._

 _Anyway, I'll see you soon. Take care of yourself in the meantime._

 _Your friend,_

 _Merlin_

Now all he had to do was find a merchant or some group of travellers heading in the proper direction who would be willing to deliver his letters.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: The boys meet up!

Once again, beta'ed by the amazing sarajm

* * *

 **Together in Spirit** – Chapter 4

Three days had passed since the knighting ceremony and Merlin was finally on his way to Ealdor. He'd been ready to head out the next morning, but Arthur had put his foot down and insisted that Merlin wait until the troop of entertainers was ready to leave so he could travel with them, at least part of the way. As usual, Arthur seemed convinced that his servant was liable to get lost or was incapable of looking after himself on the trip home.

Sitting atop his horse, Merlin said a last goodbye to Gaius and gave a short salute to Arthur, who was standing at the base of the wide stairs leading into the castle. "Don't get lost, Merlin", he called as the group turned and headed towards the main gates and out of Camelot. "I'll see you again in ten days."

Merlin turned and sent one of his patented cheeky grins towards his master and his mentor, who was now standing alongside Arthur. "See you in ten days!" he replied.

The trip to Ealdor went without a hitch, and Merlin found the group he was travelling with to be great fun, even if they did move a little slowly for his tastes. Soon enough, though, he bid farewell to his companions and headed east along the trail that would lead him directly to Ealdor.

The young man was excited to be travelling home to see his mother. Though they regularly exchanged letters, they'd not seen each other for quite a while. It was the longest they'd been apart and while Merlin was settling into his duties as physician's apprentice and manservant to the future King, he occasionally missed the quiet ways of his life in Ealdor and he especially missed the constant and gentle presence of his mother.

Shaking his head, he spoke aloud, "Stop daydreaming. You'll be home before dinner, and then tomorrow you can head to Lord Markham's estate to find Lancelot". His mare twitched her ears when she heard Merlin's voice and she swung her head around and eyed him, as if to say, "If you're in such a rush, why are we walking?" Chuckling, Merlin clicked his tongue and with a gentle squeeze of his heels, the two were soon cantering towards Ealdor and Hunith.

A couple of hours later, Merlin reined in his horse on the ridge overlooking Ealdor. Looking down, he could see the villagers out and about on their daily chores, and there, to the right, was his home. It was a beautiful, sunny day and suddenly the door to the hut opened and a woman came out carrying a basket. Merlin smiled; it was his mother and it looked like she was heading to feed the chickens.

As he watched, he saw her suddenly stop and turn in his direction, head held high and obviously searching for something. It was as if she realized that he was there, for she seemed to look straight at him for a second or two before raising her arm and waving it energetically in his direction. Then, she quickly turned and hurried back into the hut.

 _That was odd_ , thought Merlin as he encouraged his horse down the trail towards the centre of the village. Merlin reined his horse in at the edge of the village, dismounted and proceeded to lead her towards his home. A few of the people greeted him by name and Merlin smiled and responded to them. _It's good to be home_ , he thought.

As he halted in front of the small hut, Hunith hurried out and reaching for her beloved son, pulled him close into a tight embrace, the kind of hug that only a mother can give.

Holding him at arm's length, Hunith brushed Merlin's hair off his forehead, and then tugged at his clothes saying, "Here now, let me take a look at you! You're looking well, Merlin, I'm glad to say. It seems Camelot agrees with you. But you're late, we were expecting you two days ago and I was starting to get worried."

Merlin laughed at his mother's fussing and hugging her close again, he said, "I'm fine, Mother. Truly. And if I'm late, it's all Arthur's fault; he wouldn't let me leave until I had an escort, if you can believe it!" Then it suddenly struck him that his mother had used the word "we". Who was "we"?

Before he could say anything, Hunith turned towards their home and said, "Merlin, there's someone here to see you."

A voice came from the hut, saying, "I was afraid I'd have to saddle up and go searching for you Merlin!" and who should appear in the doorway but Lancelot, smiling widely at his friend.

"Lancelot!" cried Merlin as the two friends approached and clapped each other on the back. "What are you doing here? I thought you were going to be teaching at the training school? What happened?"

Lancelot laughed and as he reached over to untie Merlin's pack from the mare's saddle, he said, "I _am_ teaching at the school, Merlin, but we are waiting for a new group of students. There will be six young men arriving the week after next to begin training, so I've got some free time until then; I thought I'd surprise you and meet you here instead of at the Estate. I arrived early yesterday, and your mother has been kind enough to put me up. But what about you? From what you said in your letter, you were supposed to be here two days ago. What happened?"

Before they could get too involved in catching up, Hunith interjected, "Merlin, I'm sure you're tired and hungry. Why don't you and Lancelot go care for your horse and I'll have something for you to eat by the time you're done."

"Now that you mention it, I am hungry. I was so excited to get home that I haven't eaten anything since breakfast and that seems so long ago," said Merlin.

"Merlin," said Hunith in that tone of voice that seems to come with being a mother, "you should have stopped to eat. We weren't going to disappear."

"I know, Mother," said Merlin sheepishly. "But I just wanted to get home quickly," he added with a grin.

"Go care for your horse, my darling, and I'll get dinner ready," said Hunith as she turned towards the hut. Just before stepping inside, she looked over and watched her son and his friend as they led the tired horse towards the corral, talking all the while. Though she had only met Lancelot yesterday, he seemed to be a kind and caring man and it was obvious, watching the two of them, that Lancelot and her son were destined to be great friends.

Later than evening, after a delicious dinner, Lancelot and Merlin sat on the small bench placed outside and to the left of the hut's door, watching the stars appear in the clear night sky.

"So," said Merlin as he leaned back against the building and swivelled his head to better see his friend, "tell me everything you've been up to since you left Camelot."

Lancelot gathered his thoughts for a moment and just as he opened his mouth to speak, Merlin interrupted him. "Actually, no. First of all, tell me about the injury."

Lancelot huffed and said, "Merlin, I told you I was fine and I _am_ fine. It was nothing more than a long scratch on my side. Like I wrote, one of the merchants had a wonderful salve that he gave me to put on the wound."

At the use of word 'wound', Merlin sat up straight, but Lancelot placated his friend by continuing on, "The salve worked amazingly well; I don't even have a scar! Besides, that was over three weeks ago so I'm completely healed now."

"I know you're right Lancelot, but I still feel bad that you were injured in the first place. Let's face it, this whole situation was sort of due to my interference."

"Merlin," said Lancelot fiercely, "you stop thinking like that. I won't have it. Nothing that has happened to me has been your fault. Rather, since leaving Camelot I've had some excellent opportunities come my way. First off, guarding the merchant caravan turned out to be very advantageous. Not only did I get the recipe for a wondrous salve – which I will write out for you tomorrow – I also got to spend some time with some excellent men who taught me a few tricks and helped me improve my hand-to-hand combat. Now, I've got a position helping young men improve their swordsmanship _and_ we instructors are encouraged to sit in on whatever classes we choose to improve our own skills."

"In reality, Merlin, leaving Camelot to find my own way was probably the best decision I could have ever made, even though it does mean that we won't be able to see each other very often. So, just get those thoughts out of your mind; I won't have our week together spoiled by you feeling guilty or sorry!"

The strength of feeling that Lancelot put into his speech made Merlin realize that his friend was right … while unfortunate, it was all in the past and if they were to remain friends, they would just have to make the best of it.

Suddenly, Merlin realized what Lancelot had said. "Hold on a minute. You said 'our week together'. Are you really able to spend the week here in Ealdor?" he asked in surprise.

Lancelot laughed and said, "Yes, assuming of course that neither you nor your mother gets tired of me before the week is up. As I mentioned, we're waiting for a new group of students, so Lord Markham has allowed us to do whatever we wish in the meantime, as long as we're all back at the school the day before they arrive."

"That's wonderful news, Lancelot!" said Merlin. " _Now_ , tell me everything you've been up to," he said as he once again leaned back against the building and settled himself in to listen to Lancelot's tale.

And so began the pattern of their days in Ealdor. Each morning, the two would rise and help out around the village: one day it was repairing various stretches of fencing, another it was helping to clear the ground for a small kitchen garden. They made sure that there was always plenty of firewood split and stacked by the back wall of Hunith's house and they even helped repair the thatched roof on the village's stores hut. Afternoons were spent in the woods, setting snares for small game and doing a bit of hunting; and every evening, after dinner, the two men naturally gravitated towards the bench outside the hut. They would sit there, enjoying a mug of tea or mead, quiet and content in each other's company.

But most of all, the two men talked. They talked of Lancelot's past and what he hoped to achieve at the training school, both as a student and a teacher; they talked of the escapades Camelot's nobles. They talked of the future of Camelot and the type of king that Arthur had the potential to become and they spoke of their own dreams for the future. When they were sure not be overheard, they also spoke of magic and Merlin's talents.

On their last afternoon in Ealdor, Merlin and Lancelot were sitting at the edge of the river that ran by the village, ostensibly fishing, but really they were relaxing and enjoying the afternoon sun and the cooling breeze.

Lancelot reclined back in the grass, leaning on his elbows as he watched his friend who was sitting on large, smooth rock that overhung the river and was peering intently into the shadowed water.

"Merlin, may I ask you something?" asked the swordsman.

Looking over his shoulder at his friend, Merlin smiled and responded, "Of course. You can ask me anything," before turning his attention back to the water and the large trout that had just poked its head out from under the rock.

Looking around to ensure that they were alone, Lancelot sat up and crossed his legs at the ankles. Brushing his hand over the grass, he plucked a stem of clover and spun it between his fingers. "How long have you had magic?"

The question surprised Merlin, so much so that he immediately abandoned the fish and turned towards Lancelot with a look of surprise on his face. Lancelot knew he had magic, of course, but this was the first time he had asked this particular question.

Merlin walked over towards where his friend was seated in the grass and dropped down, crossing his legs under him. "What makes you ask?"

"I'm curious," said Lancelot. "Actually, I guess what I really wanted to ask was why you are creating a life for yourself in Camelot, considering you have magic. You know how the King feels about sorcery … aren't you worried?"

"Of course I'm worried, Lancelot. But I try not to let it affect me too much. I was born with magic … strong magic. Gaius said that he's never seen anyone with as much power as I have, at such a young age."

Merlin looked up at his friend briefly. He'd never even told his mother about the extent of his powers. Dropping his gaze back to the ground, Merlin plucked a stem of grass and twiddled it in his fingers before continuing.

"My magic is instinctive, and because of that it sometimes becomes difficult to control. My mother was worried about me staying here in Ealdor without some sort of training," and he then related to Lancelot how his mother had sent him to Gaius for teaching.

Merlin stared off over the water for a few moments, but Lancelot held his tongue as it was apparent Merlin was not finished speaking.

"When I arrived in Camelot, the first thing I saw was the execution of a young man, a sorcerer, in the middle of the courtyard. Let me tell you, _that_ was a terrifying welcome. And then when the King spoke about having banished magic from the Kingdom and that it was a reason to celebrate, I really began to wonder about my mother's wisdom in sending me there."

"But you know, it's like you said: for you, leaving Camelot was the best decision you could have made; for me, staying there, learning from Gaius and working with Arthur is exactly what I should be doing, at least right now."

The two men sat there, each lost in their own thoughts, for several moments when a splash from the river made them both look up. Lancelot stood and reaching down to grab Merlin's hand and pull him up, said, "I think that's a reminder, Merlin, that unless we catch something, we won't be eating tonight!"

"I was watching a trout before we got to talking. Let's see if we can entice him to become dinner!" said Merlin as he brushed off the seat of his pants and strode towards the river's edge.

"Aren't you forgetting something?" called Lancelot.

"I don't think so," came the reply.

"Well, I don't know how _you_ catch fish, but _I_ use a fishing pole," said Lancelot, laughingly, as he approached the young warlock and handed him one of the fishing poles they'd brought with them.

Merlin grinned, and taking the pole, he baited the hook and let it drop gently into the river. "First one to catch a fish doesn't have to scale or gut them," he said, eyeing his friend over his shoulder.

"I hope you're good with a knife, Merlin, because I intend to win this contest!"

The next morning, after having enjoyed a hearty breakfast, Merlin and Lancelot stood outside the hut. They had already saddled their horses in preparation for their leaving, so all that was left to do was to say goodbye to Hunith. After pressing some food on each of them for their travels, she gave each of them a hug and some motherly wisdom.

"Lancelot, you are welcome here any time; please don't hesitate to come for a meal or simply some company when you've got some free time," she said to the swordsman.

Surprised at the invitation, he smiled and said gratefully, "Thank you, Hunith; I appreciate the invitation. I may just take you up on it at some point."

He then turned away and mounted his horse, giving Merlin and Hunith some privacy to say their goodbyes.

"Oh, Merlin, it has been so good to have you home," she said as she brushed her hand over her son's hair. "Take care of yourself and be careful. I like Lancelot very much," she added. "I'm so glad to see that you are making such good friends."

Merlin gave his mother one last embrace, mounted his horse and turned her head towards Camelot. As the two men reached the edge of the woods, they turned and waved to Hunith, who was standing at the door to her home, watching them as they rode away. She waved back and then turned towards one of other villagers who had stopped to speak with her.

The two men on horseback grinned at each other and, spurring their horses into a canter, sped off down the track. About thirty minutes later, they reached a fork in the road; Merlin would take the right hand trail, which headed west towards Camelot, Lancelot would take the other trail which headed north to Lord Markham's lands.

"Well, Merlin, I suppose this is goodbye for now," said Lancelot as he looked over at the warlock. "I had a wonderful time in Ealdor, and your mother is a lovely woman. And don't worry, it's not far from here to the Estate, so I will make a point of checking up on her every once in a while, if you wish."

"Really, Lancelot? That would be great. I worry about Mother being on her own, and I'm so far away … I will definitely feel much better knowing that you are around to help her out if something happens."

Merlin paused for a moment before continuing, "It was terrific to see you again, Lancelot. I hope things go well at the training school. I probably won't be back this way for another few months, so I'm not sure when we'll be able to get together again."

"Don't worry about it, Merlin. We'll just continue our friendship as we started, with letters. I won't forget to send you a report about the school that you can pass on to Arthur." Stretching out his right arm, Lancelot added, "Take care of yourself, Merlin, and travel safely. Let me know when you arrived in Camelot."

Merlin clasped his friend's arm and grinned, "I'll be fine Lancelot. I fail to understand why everyone thinks I'm helpless! Safe journey to you too, my friend. I look forward to hearing about everything at that school; it sounds fascinating."

Releasing their arms, and gathering their reins back in their hands, the men nodded to each other and parted ways, secure in the knowledge that their growing friendship was built on a sturdy foundation.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Extra-special thanks to sarajm who, because RL intervened, was beta'ing this at stupid o'clock in the morning!

* * *

 **Together in Spirit** \- Chapter 5

Yule was fast approaching, and along with the festivities associated with the season Merlin was also looking forward to his next trip back to Ealdor. It was a very busy time in Camelot, as it was in all the kingdoms, but Arthur had promised his servant that he could travel to his village once the Yule events were over. On hearing the news, Merlin had quickly written to both Hunith and Lancelot advising them that he expected to be home mid-January.

Following their get-together in Ealdor in the summer, Merlin and Lancelot had exchanged several letters, including the promised report about the training school that Merlin had dutifully passed on to Arthur.

From the tone of his letters, Lancelot was thoroughly enjoying his time at the school. The young swordsman had soon discovered that the teachers engaged by Lord Markham were all experts in their fields and there was plenty of opportunity for him to train with them. As a result, his letters to Merlin were filled with lengthy and enthusiastic descriptions of his training sessions, particularly those spent with a former entertainer - a knife thrower - who praised Lancelot's keen eye and steady hand. He had also become friendly with Montgomery and Alexander, brothers who excelled at hand-to-hand combat and were always ready to engage Lancelot in some friendly sparring sessions.

The dark-haired swordsman had also been to visit Hunith a couple of times, and knowing that his friend was nearby and had obviously become close with his mother took a great weight off Merlin's shoulders. He worried about his mother being alone and him being so far away, so knowing that his friend was ready and willing to help out endeared him even more to Merlin.

Despite starting each day at a run and keeping up the pace until he collapsed in exhaustion on his bed, the lad was happy. He had always enjoyed the Yule season, and Camelot certainly celebrated in fine style. The castle had been cleaned from top to bottom, Cook was trying out new and delicious recipes in preparation for the feast, the knights and their squires had been working on a demonstration to be held in the jousting field and Merlin was right in the thick of it, loving every minute.

Two nights before the Yule Feast, Arthur hosted a small dinner party for a few of his closest friends and Merlin spent the day ensuring that Arthur's rooms were spotless and suitably decorated, the table was set, the food and wine were organized and the small gifts that Arthur had asked the castle's potter to craft for his friends – enamelled roundels for their horses' bridals – were placed at the table. Added to all this running around he was doing for Arthur, the young servant was also giving Gaius some extra help as well.

There had been an outbreak of influenza in recent weeks and while it fortunately had not proven to be too difficult to deal with, Gaius was kept busy dispensing medicines so did not have the time to make more draughts and syrups. In fact, Gaius' store of medicines had become so severely depleted that Merlin was called upon to brew, and soon perfected, the simple remedies Gaius had taught him earlier in the year.

In the end, between his obligations as Arthur's manservant, his extra duties in helping prepare for the Yule Feast and the time he spent with Gaius treating the sick, it was no wonder that Merlin fell ill.

The morning of the Yule Feast had finally arrived and Merlin was lying in his bed, staring at the ceiling above him and trying to summon the energy to rise. The young man had not been feeling himself for a couple of days. He had a nagging headache and his joints ached, but as he not developed a fever or chills, Merlin figured that his pains were nothing more than overwork and not enough sleep. _Once the feast is done_ , he thought to himself, _I can get some rest_.

A bang sounded from the outer room, and then Gaius' voice could be heard, "Drat! Where is ..." A clang and then a sudden yelp had Merlin leaping out of bed and rushing down the stairs towards his mentor, who was now sitting on a bench rubbing his lower leg.

"Gaius, what's wrong?" rasped the young man, as he stood in front of the physician, with his hair sticking up all over his head and shivering slightly in the early morning chill.

"Merlin, are you all right?" asked Gaius as his gave his ward the once-over with a keen eye. "You look quite pale, and it sounds like you're coming down with some sort of throat ailment."

Merlin cleared his throat and responded, "I'm fine, Gaius. But what happened to you? I heard you yell …"

"I'm sorry if I disturbed you, Merlin. I was gathering some of the herbs to get started on another batch of cough syrup when I overturned the kettle. I tried to catch it before it hit the ground, but no luck. In fact, it bounced off the hearth and hit my shin. But enough about me, young man. You sit yourself down; I'm going to take a look at your throat. I don't like the way you sound."

"I'm fine, really, Gaius. There's no need to worry about me. I probably just need some hot tea and I'll be right as rain," answered Merlin, as he tried to head back to his room to get dressed.

A stern "Merlin", accompanied by a raised eyebrow was all it took for the young man to quickly seat himself and submit to Gaius' ministrations.

Gaius pulled one of the blankets off his bed and draped it around the young warlock's shoulders before he placed his hands on either side of Merlin's neck and began feeling his throat. There was some slight swelling, causing Merlin to flinch when Gaius pressed a bit, but it did not seem too serious. Gaius then felt the lad's forehead and the back of his neck. "You do not seem to have a fever, which is good news," he said to the young man as he walked over to his table and retrieved his magnifier lens. Returning to stand in front of Merlin he ordered, "Open wide" and holding a candle close by, he peered into Merlin's mouth. "However, your throat appears quite red and inflamed. Does it hurt when you speak or swallow?"

"A bit," answered the young man, who then winced as he swallowed. "I'm also sore all over and I've got a headache," he admitted reluctantly. He didn't have time right now to be sick!

"Well, Merlin, I believe you are in the early stages of influenza. But, hopefully we've caught it soon enough that we'll be able to nip it in the bud before it develops into something more serious. Go get dressed; by the time you're ready, I'll have some draughts for you to take that will help ease your symptoms."

Merlin folded up the blanket that Gaius had given him and laid it on the bed before he returned to his room to get dressed for the day. Gaius, in the meantime, hunted amount his medicines for what he'd need. By the time Merlin returned to the main room, in front of his place at the table was a bowl of porridge, a mug containing tea with honey and a small vial containing a green liquid.

"Drink that first," said Gaius pointing to the vial as he sat at the table with his own bowl of porridge. "I fully admit it tastes quite horrible, but it will help ease your joint aches. I've dissolved some headache powder into it as well. Only once you've eaten breakfast and finished your tea can you leave this room. I've asked one of the guards to let Arthur know that you'll be a little late attending him this morning."

Before Merlin could say anything, Gaius added, "No, I did not tell Arthur you were sick; I simply said that I needed your assistance for a bit this morning and you'd be with him by mid-morning. That will give you some extra time to let the medicines work and enjoy another cup of tea before you have to start on your duties."

Merlin smiled his thanks and put the vial to his lips, pausing for a moment before scrunching his eyes closed and daring at last to tip the contents down his throat. Gaius had certainly not lied about the taste of the medicine; it was absolutely vile! The warlock sputtered and wrinkled his nose, but he manfully downed the entire dose, thought he did follow it with a large gulp of tea to try to rid himself of the taste.

Watching his young ward, Gaius couldn't help but laugh. "Merlin," he chuckled, "honestly, it's not that bad! Besides, it will do you a world of good!"

Merlin looked over at the physician seated across from him and complained, "Actually, Gaius, it _is_ that bad! It tastes like an old boot!"

Gaius just smiled and, shaking his head in resignation, pointed towards the porridge and said, "Eat up, Merlin. I added some honey to it, just as you like."

One bowl of sweetened porridge and two mugs of hot honeyed tea later, Merlin was feeling much better than he had in days. The headache was almost gone and his throat was no longer burning. He still felt a bit achy, but even that was easing.

As he grabbed his jacket and headed towards the door and his duties, Gaius called, "Wait a moment. Here, take these," and he handed Merlin a waxed bag containing some lemon drops. "They'll help your sore throat. You can take them as often as you need. But you have to promise me that if you start feeling worse, you'll tell Arthur and then immediately come to find me. I expect to be here most of the day as I've got to make another batch of cough syrup and some other remedies."

"Gaius," the young man started, "I'll be …"

"Merlin," the physician interrupted in a stern tone, "promise me. You've been working extremely hard these past weeks and now you run the risk of developing influenza if you're not careful. The best cure is rest, so you must promise me that if you start to feel ill, you'll come find me. After all, you're supposed to be travelling home in a couple of days and if you're sick …."

The physician did not finish his sentence, but he didn't have to; Merlin's wide eyes and fearful look said it all. The young man had no intention of missing his trip to visit his Mother and Lancelot, so he quickly agreed that he would tell Arthur if he started feeling worse.

* * *

Pocketing the lemon drops, the young man hurried out the door and towards Arthur's rooms. Merlin knew that the King had requested Arthur attend him that morning, but by now their meeting should be completed and Arthur would be anxious to make his way to the jousting field.

Rounding a corner, Merlin came face-to-face with Gwen, whose arms were full of linens. "Good morning," said the serving girl with a smile.

Merlin tried to respond, but when he opened his mouth to speak, nothing came out but a harsh croak. Looking slightly abashed, he cleared his throat and tried again, "Gwen, good morning."

"Are you all right?" asked Gwen in a concerned tone. "You're not coming down with anything, are you?"

"No, I'm fine," said Merlin as he popped one of the lemon drops in his mouth. "I've just got a bit of sore throat is all. Gaius already took a look and gave me these drops, so everything's okay. I'm sorry, Gwen, but I'm already late to meet Arthur, so if you'll excuse me."

"Of course, Merlin," answered Gwen as she watched her friend hurry down the hall. "Take care of yourself," she called as he reached Arthur's door. Merlin turned and gave her a grin before knocking and letting himself into Arthur's chambers.

Once inside, a quick look showed the room was empty. Merlin breathed a sigh a relief; he wasn't late! However, the intake of air caused his throat to seize and the young man started coughing. In fact, he coughed so hard that when Arthur stepped into the room moments later, he saw his manservant bent over, hands on his thighs, gasping for breath.

Rushing to his side, Arthur asked, "Merlin! What's wrong? Are you okay?"

Still trying to catch his breath, Merlin waved his hand at the prince as if to say, "Everything's good; no one's coughing up a lung here," but Arthur ignored the gesture and pushed Merlin to sit down in his chair at the table.

Once seated, Merlin was able to take a couple of deep breaths. As soon as his lungs were functioning again, he grasped the mug of water that Arthur had poured for him and took a few small sips.

Looking up at his master over the rim of the mug, he saw Arthur standing close by him, with a worried look on his face. The servant tried to smile in reassurance, but it came out as more of a grimace, which caused Arthur's brow to furrow even more.

A few more sips of water and Merlin felt capable of talking. Placing the mug on the table in front of him, he turned to face Arthur, saying, "Thank you for the water, Arthur. I'm sorry about that. I'm not sure what happened, I just took a deep breath and started coughing. Then, I couldn't stop!"

"You're welcome Merlin, but are you okay? You don't sound good, but that could be due to the coughing fit."

"I'm fine, Arthur. There's no need to worry about me. I have a bit of a sore throat, but Gaius already took a look and gave me some cough syrup and some lemon drops. I'm sorry I wasn't able to attend you this morning, but I'm here now. What do you need me to do today?"

Knowing that Gaius would never have let Merlin leave their chambers if the lad were truly ill, Arthur put aside his concern, sat at the table and the two men went through the list of tasks that needed to be completed before the Feast that evening.

After getting Arthur ready for the jousting field and pushing him out the door, Merlin then cleaned Arthur's ceremonial robes, polished his boots, arranged the bath that Arthur so desperately needed after having spent a couple of hours on horseback, and then dressed him for dinner. In between all that, he also helped put the finishing touches on the decorations in the Great Hall, assisted in arranging the tables and seating for the Court and the Knights and basically scurried around helping to ensure that everything was ready in time for the Feast.

By the time the dinner bell was rung, Merlin was exhausted and was starting to feel the effects of his illness. His headache had returned, every bone in his body ached and the cough was still hanging on, despite popping lemon drops like they were going out of style. On top of it all, Merlin was starting to fear that he was running a slight fever, though he could have only been feeling warm due to the running around he'd been doing.

Finally, though, the tables were groaning with the amount of food they held, everyone was seated, and all that was left for the servant to do was ensure that Arthur's cup was always filled with wine. That simple task was about all he could handle at the moment, so he wasn't at all unhappy to simply stand behind Arthur's chair with his eyes half-open and letting the noise of the room wash over him.

Suddenly, Merlin felt a hand on his arm and it jolted him out of the light doze he'd fallen into. Blinking, he looked up at saw Gwen standing before him and speaking in a gentle tone, "Merlin? Merlin, wake up. Are you okay?"

"Mm fine," slurred the lad as he shook his head, then immediately regretted the action as it caused his headache to flare up.

"Merlin, you're not fine," responding Gwen as she placed a hand on his forehead. "You've got a fever. I'm going to get Gaius."

"Nooo, 's okay. I'm okay," whispered the servant, but Gwen ignored him and moved swiftly over to one of the tables where Merlin saw her lean in and speak to Gaius. After listening to Gwen for a moment, Gaius' gaze immediately fixed on his young ward. Not liking what he saw, the physician stood and made his way over to Merlin, who was now leaning against the wall trying desperately not to cough.

Gaius placed a gnarled hand on the lad's forehead and frowned. "Merlin, you _promised_ me that you'd come and find me if you started feeling worse. You've now got a fever and I bet you still have a headache. That's it, you're done here. I'll explain what's going on to Arthur and then I'm taking you back to your room."

"But … but the Feast …," whined the young man. "I've got to stay to help."

"You've done enough, my boy," said Gaius in a gentle tone. "Now's the time to let someone else take over. Gwen, would you keep an eye on this young fool for a moment?"

"Of course, Gaius," she said as she led Merlin to an abandoned chair in the quiet hallway outside the Great Hall and made him sit down. They were there only a moment before Gaius appeared beside them and proceeded to pull the now-ashen lad to his feet.

"Come on, Merlin. Arthur knows you're not feeling well, and I'm getting you to bed. George will take over your duties for the rest of the evening, so there's no need to worry. Come on; let's get back to our rooms so I can take a good look at you."

It was a slow walk back to their shared chambers, and Merlin spent most of the time apologizing for not having gone to see Gaius earlier. "But really," he whispered, "I didn't feel bad until I stopped running around. And then it all seemed to hit me at once. I'm so sorry Gaius."

"Hush, lad. Don't worry; I understand. Right now, the only thing we've got to do is get you better."

Once they arrived at their rooms, Gaius led Merlin up the steps his room and, seating him on his bed, removed his jacket and his boots and told him to lay back. He then deftly covered the boy with blankets. "I'll be back in a couple of moments with some medicines. Try not to fall asleep."

"All right, Gaius," answered Merlin in a sleepy voice, as he settled his head on his pillow. By the time Gaius returned, armed with various vials and powders, Merlin was asleep; so deeply asleep in fact, that it was difficult to rouse him. However, Gaius managed to get two of the liquids into the boy before tucking him in and quietly leaving the room. He left the door ajar, the better to hear if Merlin called for him or sounded distressed.

It was quiet night, and Merlin did not rouse until late the next morning. Unfortunately, when he did awaken he could barely move for the aches. The fever had now taken hold and the lad could feel tremors travelling up and down his body. He was cold one moment and then boiling hot the next.

Turning his head, he saw a mug with steam rising up from it sitting on the small table beside his bed. A sniff brought the aroma of herbs to his nose. _Ahh_ , he thought, _one of Gaius' remedies_. Merlin reached over to grab the mug, but misjudged the distance and instead smacked his hand against the table. The resulting noise was enough to alert Gaius to the fact that his patient was now awake and he soon appeared at the lad's bedside.

Leaning down, he placed a hand on Merlin's forehead and said, "That's quite a fever you've got, my boy." Gaius helped the lad to sit up and then passed him the mug. After Merlin had taken a few sips, Gaius asked, "How are you feeling?"

"Not very good," answered Merlin dejectedly, with fever-bright eyes. "Everything hurts, my throat feels as though it's on fire and I can't decide if I'm hot or cold. Even my hair hurts", he whined.

"Merlin, I'm sorry to say that you've definitely got the flu and the only thing that's going to make you feel better is plenty of rest and lots of liquids. I can certainly give you some medicines to ease your aches and sooth your throat, but I fear that the illness is going to have to run its course," said Gaius, sadly.

It was obvious that the lad had not yet realized that his illness prevented any attempt at a trip home at the moment, and Gaius decided it would be better for his patient, in the long run, to keep quiet on the subject. Instead, he said, "Finish the herbal tea, Merlin, and then get some more sleep. I'll be back to check on you soon."

Merlin had not even finished the tea before he started drifting off again. Rescuing the almost-empty mug from Merlin's lax fingers, Gaius helped his patient to lay back. He tucked the blankets tight around the boy, for he was shivering again, and then he gently brushed the hair off Merlin's forehead. His fever was high, but not dangerously so, so Gaius decided to let him sleep some more before trying to get some more medicines into the lad.

The physician quietly descended the steps from Merlin's room to the main chamber and looked around. _Not the most auspicious ways to end the Yule season_ , he thought to himself as he heard the lad shifting in his sleep.

Well, there was not much choice in the matter, so after he had dispatched a guard to advise Arthur of Merlin's continued illness, the older man sat down at the table with some parchment and a quill. He'd have to let Hunith know that her son would not be joining her as hoped.

 _Dear Hunith,_

 _I send you my best wishes for the Yule and I hope you enjoyed it. Things were busy here as usual, but the Festivities went well and seemed to be very successful._

 _However, this is not the main reason for my writing. I know you were expecting Merlin to join to you shortly, but I am afraid this will prove to be impossible at the moment. Unfortunately, Camelot suffered through a bout of influenza and yesterday, Merlin came down with it._

 _There's no need to worry, Hunith; he will be just fine once he's been able to rest. He was so busy these past weeks helping get everything ready for the Yule Feast as well as assisting me in treating the ill, that he ended up tired and run down. I suppose it was inevitable that he end up with the flu, but fortunately it does not seem to be a severe case._

 _At the moment, he's got the usual fever and aches, but I am treating those. While it is still in the early stages, I do not believe that Merlin will become any sicker than he is already and should soon be on the way to full health._

 _However, it would not be in his best interests to have him travel to Ealdor in this cold; in fact, I am going to impress on Prince Arthur that Merlin must remain indoors, in the warm and dry, for at least two weeks after the symptoms have abated._

 _I know you will be sorely distressed by this news, but rest assured that he is in good hands and is being well cared for._

 _I would ask that you let Lancelot know Merlin's situation. The poor lad was so excited about seeing you and getting the opportunity to spend some time with Lancelot … I hate to think how he'll feel once he realizes that his trip is going to have to be postponed._

 _Hunith, I'm not sure if you are aware of just how close Lancelot and Merlin have become over the past months. The joy I see in Merlin's face when he receives a letter from Lancelot is something to behold. I just hope that time and distance does not conspire to tear them apart._

 _In any event, I wish you well and I will have Merlin write you once he is feeling up to it. I know, as a mother, you will worry until you hear from him directly!_

 _Gaius_

After folding and sealing the letter, Gaius looked in on Merlin. The lad was deeply asleep and looked like he would stay that way for a while. Knowing there was nothing else he could do for Merlin at the moment, Gaius picked up the letter and headed off to Arthur's chambers to give him an update on his servant's condition and ask that he arrange for the letter to be sent to Ealdor.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Once again, ably beta'ed by sarajm. The goats are for you, m'dear!

* * *

 **Together in Spirit** – Chapter 6

It had been over two years since their first meeting in Ealdor and Merlin was once again on his way home to visit his mother and meet up with Lancelot. Yet, he thought, the village could not really be considered home; not any more.

The young warlock had been in Camelot going on three years now and he'd recently come to the realization that it was more than just the place where he lay his head. He was learning so much from Gaius, he'd been busy keeping Arthur from harm, he'd made good friends … so, yes, while Ealdor would always hold a special place in his heart, Camelot was _Home_.

The young man was excited, more so than usual, to make this particular journey to see his Mother. He and Lancelot were still writing to each other, and their friendship was deepening with each missive they exchanged, but for the first time in a long time they would actually get to spend some time together.

The young man had so much to tell his friend, so much that couldn't be written down. There was Freya, the absolutely hysterical event with the Troll and King Uther, the fear of having the Witchfinder in Camelot, and most important of all … Balinor.

Lancelot had moved on from teaching at the training school and up until recently had been travelling through the western kingdoms, searching for … something. A purpose, a meaning; Merlin wasn't quite sure what, but the tone of Lancelot's last two letters was enough to concern him.

Though the dark-haired swordsman did not like to speak of his life before their first meeting trying to escape the Griffin, the servant knew that Lancelot had not had an easy childhood. His worry for his friend was enough to make Merlin determined to find, or make, an opportunity where the two men could sit down in private and actually _talk_.

Besides wanting to understand his friend better, Merlin was desperate to share the news of him becoming a Dragonlord. He could never tell his mother what had occurred on that fateful day when he met, and then lost, his father; but it was different with Lancelot. He would understand both Merlin's deep despair and soaring joy.

Merlin was soon in Ealdor, sitting at the table in his childhood home enjoying the chance to just talk with his mother. The two chatted through their simple meal of bread, cheese and fruit. Merlin told his mother of the happenings in Camelot and Hunith, in her turn, told him of events in the village.

It seemed that two of Merlin's childhood friends had hand-fasted and were now expecting their first child. There had been a fire in another village nearby and two families who had been burned out had arrived in Ealdor with nothing but the clothes on their backs and their two goats. They were welcomed and quickly fit into the village life in Ealdor. Merlin was saddened to hear that old Janus had died over the winter. He was a kindly old soul and Merlin could remember when he and his friend Will were little and Janus was the one who took them to all the best fishing spots.

It had fallen quiet at the table. Merlin sat turning his now-empty mug around and around in his hands while Hunith watched him, growing concerned at her son's ceaseless fidgeting.

Reaching across, Hunith laid a gentle hand on her son's arm and said, "Merlin, what's wrong?"

Placing the mug to the side, Merlin looked up at his mother, worry evident on his face. "It's not me, Mother. I'm worried about Lancelot. I think there's something wrong, but I'm not sure. His last couple of letters to me were … I don't know … distant somehow. Maybe I'm just being stupid," he said. "After all, Lancelot is perfectly capable of looking after himself."

"Merlin, you've always been a very intuitive person and your feelings are usually right. You and Lancelot have been friends a long time now, so if you think there's something wrong, then I believe you. Talk to me; maybe I can help."

"It's nothing I can put my finger on, Mother. It's just … well … how can I put this? In the beginning Lancelot's letters were so full of joy and excitement; he loved teaching and training with the others at the school. And when he left there, his next few letters were filled with stories about the people he met on his travels and the sights he'd seen. But, his last two letters were short and didn't really say much. And what little he did say seemed to be tinged with sadness."

"I thought maybe that he was tiring of our friendship, but when I mentioned it to Gaius he soon set me straight." He paused a moment, then continued, "I feel like Lancelot is searching for some sort of purpose in his life and I'm afraid that his search will take him so far away that he'll never find his way back," said Merlin sadly.

"Oh, my poor boy. I don't think you will ever need to worry about losing Lancelot's friendship. When he was at the school, the dear man made a point of stopping by every month or so. He always said he was simply 'passing by', but I knew better. He missed you and I think that having contact with me made him feel a little closer to you. He always talked of you and the things you'd told him in your letters. Merlin, that man loves you."

At his mother's words, Merlin paled and his hands twitched where they lay on the table.

Smiling gently, Hunith reached across the table and cupped her hand on Merlin's cheek and forced him to meet her gaze. "And you love him, don't you?" she asked softly.

Merlin swallowed and nodded slightly. Still caught in his mother's gaze, the warlock said, "But he can never know. Lancelot cannot return to Camelot, and I cannot leave Arthur's side." Tears filled the warlock's eyes, but he refused to let them fall. "It's better this way," he whispered. "I am content with his friendship, for friendship is all we can have."

Brushing her hand across her son's forehead, Hunith simply said, "Oh, my little love, don't despair. I know the situation seems impossible right now, but who knows what the future will bring. I believe you and Lancelot are destined to be together, in one way or another."

After a pause, Hunith said, "It's getting late. Why don't you get some rest? Lancelot is supposed to arrive tomorrow, and it seems to me you two have a great deal to discuss."

"All right, Mother," said Merlin as he stood from the table and went to Hunith's side. Leaning down, he kissed the top of her head and said, "I'm just going to get some fresh air; I'll go to bed soon."

Placing his mug by the wash basin, Merlin walked out of the hut and sat down on the bench just outside the door. _Lancelot's bench_ , he thought to himself with a rueful smile. Leaning back against the wall of the house, Merlin looked up at the night sky. It was beautiful; the sky was varying shades of dark blues and purples peppered with the brilliant light from distant stars. A cloud, high and wispy, drifted by and an owl flew across on silent wings. As he sat there, Merlin felt the calm of the night enter his soul and he felt more at ease than he had for a long while. The young man sat there for another few minutes before rising and heading to his bed.

Despite the intense emotions of the evening, Merlin slept well and rose early the next morning with the calm he finally managed to obtain still filling him, body and mind. He was resolved to carry on as if nothing had changed. What he wanted and what had to be were very different but Merlin was determined to let nothing destroy the deep friendship that had developed between Lancelot and him over the years.

 _Besides,_ he thought, _I doubt Lancelot feels the same as me, despite what Mother said_.

Greeting his mother with a bright "good morning", Merlin grabbed the bucket next to the wash basin and headed out to the well to fill it with water. It was going to be a beautiful day; the sun was just starting to appear over the ridge, the air was warm and everything smelled clean and fresh.

With the bucket now filled with cool, fresh water, Merlin walked the few steps back to the house with a smile on his face. Placing the bucket on the floor, Merlin kissed his mother on the cheek and then went to grab a couple of bowls off the shelf.

"Well, you certainly seem to be in a better mood this morning," said Hunith as she watched he son ladle porridge from the pot suspended over the fire.

The young man smiled at his mother before placing both bowls on the table and sitting down. "I am, actually," said Merlin. "I decided that I shouldn't worry about anything until I've spoken with Lancelot."

Knowing that her son was deflecting his emotions – a typical response from Merlin when he was faced with something upsetting – but also realizing that saying anything would create unnecessary tension, Hunith simply picked up her spoon and responded, "That seems a very wise idea, Merlin," before taking a bite of her breakfast.

"Speaking of Lancelot, did he give you any idea of when he'd be arriving?"

"No, he didn't. All he said was that he'd be here at some point today."

It was just after the noontime meal when the swordsman arrived in the village. He'd made several visits over the years, and so a few of the villagers greeted him by name. Arriving at Hunith's house, Lancelot dismounted and tied his horse to a nearby fencepost.

Hunith, hearing the jingling of the bridle and the creak of the saddle, came to the door and stood watching her son's friend while he loosened his saddle's girth and removed the saddlebags. Looking over Lancelot with a critical eye, Hunith realized that Merlin's intuition was correct – there was a stillness to the dark-haired man that was new.

"Lancelot," called Hunith, "it's so very good to see you again. I hope you are well."

As Lancelot approached, Hunith gestured for him to enter the house and added, "I hope you are able to stay a while; Merlin is looking forward to seeing you. You can place your bags there," she said, pointing to a corner of the room.

Not seeing his friend, Lancelot opened his mouth to ask Hunith where Merlin was when she smiled and said, "Merlin is out back chopping some wood for me. Go on, I know he's the one you've come to see."

Smiling, Lancelot gave Hunith a gentle hug and said, "Hunith, you are a dear friend to me as well, but, yes, I do need to speak with Merlin."

Stepping out of the house, Lancelot could hear the steady _thwack, thwack_ of an axe splitting wood. Rounding the back of the building, and spying his friend now stacking some freshly-split logs, Lancelot called over, "Make sure you do a good job with those, Merlin. You'd hate to have the pile come crashing down on your foot!"

"Lancelot!" cried Merlin, his eyes lighting up on seeing his friend. "You've finally made it!" he added as he rushed over to his friend and pulled him into a tight hug. Releasing Lancelot, he said, "How long can you stay? What have you been doing? How are you?"

Laughing, Lancelot said, "Hold on there a moment; give me a chance to get a word in. I'm fine Merlin; it's been an interesting few months. Here, let me give you a hand with this wood and then we can talk."

Between the two of them, they quickly had all the logs split and piled neatly against the rear of house. It was hot, thirsty work, so once they were finished, they wandered over the well to splash some water on their faces and have a long, satisfying drink.

Looking over at the man he hadn't seen in what felt like forever, Merlin could see many changes in Lancelot. Yes, of course he was older and his hair was a little longer, but he seemed worn, almost faded, and there were new lines around his eyes. Merlin placed a hand on Lancelot's shoulder and said, "I have so much to tell you. Let's go find a quiet spot by the river where we can talk in private."

"That's an excellent idea, Merlin, because I, too, have a great deal to tell you. Lead the way."

A short walk along the river soon led them to a deserted stretch of riverbank with a couple of rocks perfect for sitting on. After they had made themselves comfortable, Merlin grinned at his friend and then proceeded to remove his boots and socks, roll up his trousers and slip his feet into the cool, clear water.

The two sat there for a few moments, quiet and comfortable in each other's presence, before Merlin turned to his friend and said, "Oh, Lancelot, so much has happened to me recently; things that I couldn't write down in a letter. I'm so glad you're here," and he started to tell Lancelot of everything that had gone on in Camelot in the past months.

At the mention of Freya, Merlin's eyes welled with tears and Lancelot simply leaned over and placed his hand on Merlin's shoulder; a wordless gesture that brought great comfort to the young warlock.

Merlin had his friend laughing out loud at the story of King Uther romancing the troll and Lancelot grit his teeth and angry fire flashed in his eyes at the news of the Witchfinder confronting the young man.

Finally, Merlin stopped talking and took a deep breath. "There's one other thing, Lancelot, and it's the hardest of all to speak of. I've had to keep this inside because there is no one else I can talk to about this. It's been so hard."

Merlin's words concerned Lancelot greatly and he said, "Merlin, what's wrong? You're worrying me. Are you all right?"

Smiling sadly at his friend, the young man said, "Yes, I'm fine, Lancelot. It's just ... well … I found my father."

"What?!" responded Lancelot. "But I thought you said that Hunith never told you who your father was. How …"

"Gaius knew my father and then when the Great Dragon was terrorizing Camelot, Arthur had to go find a dragonslayer and …"

Lancelot quickly interjected, "Merlin, wait, I'm confused. The Great Dragon was terrorizing Camelot? Why don't you start at the beginning?"

"Oh, right, of course. Well, it all started when I promised the Great Dragon that I would release him from his prison beneath the castle …"

Lancelot sat, entranced by the story, until its end. "And so," concluded Merlin, "I am now the only Dragonlord left. You can understand why I couldn't tell anyone about this. Really, wasn't it enough that I have magic? Now I apparently have the power to command the dragons as well!"

Lancelot stared at his friend with an expression of awe in his eyes. He'd always known that Merlin was special, but this … this was incredible! "Merlin," he said, "first off, let me say how sorry I am to hear about your father. It must have been so hard to find him and then lose him so soon after. But, trust me, even though he only knew you for a few short hours, I know he would be so proud of the man you are, just as I am. You, my friend, are amazing! A Dragonlord!"

Merlin flushed at Lancelot's kind words and waved them away. "Thank you, Lancelot. But now it's your turn. I'm worried about you; your last letters seemed so … different."

"Ah, Merlin, I should have realized that you'd pick up on that," said the swordsman with a rueful smile. "Yes, well, it's been a difficult few months for me as well."

Gazing at the sunlight dancing off the water, Lancelot realized how late it had become. The two men had spent the entire afternoon sitting by the river, talking, and it would soon be time for dinner.

"Merlin, listen, it's growing late so why don't we go have dinner and I'll tell you my story afterwards," said Lancelot as he stood up and leapt from the rock to the grass.

"All right," agreed Merlin as he quickly pulled on his boots and joined his friend. "But don't think I'm going to let you avoid telling me what's going on. We are definitely continuing this conversation after we've eaten."

Lancelot laughed and clapped Merlin on the back and the two then made their way back to the village and dinner.

After enjoying a sumptuous meal of rabbit stew and fresh-baked bread flavoured with rosemary, Lancelot and Merlin helped Hunith wash and put away the few dishes and then they repaired to "their" bench outside the hut.

Merlin sat sideways on the bench, with his left leg underneath him and his left shoulder up against the wall of the hut. Lancelot sat and leaned back against the hut and took a moment to look around the village and glance up at the sky. Turning his head, the swordsman looked at his friend, sitting quietly with an expectant look on his face, and he gave a small sigh. He never enjoyed talking about himself, but Merlin deserved to know what was going on.

"You know I left the training school a while ago", began Lancelot as he stared across the village, avoiding looking at his friend. "It was an amazing experience and I learned so much, but eventually it came time for me to move on. Lord Markham was very kind and pointed me in the direction of a friend of his who was looking for a Sword Master to train his young son for a few months before he left home to become a squire. I enjoyed that position very much, even though it only lasted only a short time. The boy was a joy to teach; he'll do well for himself, I know."

"After that, I ended up wandering around the western kingdoms for a while, picking up the odd guard position here and there. I felt restless and couldn't really seem to find any place where I felt I belonged. And while I was travelling, I actually began to look at what was going on around me. The poverty, the fighting … it was becoming too much for me to bear. Ironic, I know, for a swordsman to feel this way, but it all seemed to be so _pointless_. I had no cause of my own and instead I was being hired on to fight for someone else's; usually one I didn't believe in."

Lancelot swivelled his head to glance over at Merlin; the young man was staring at him intently, with his brow slightly furrowed.

"I've made a decision, Merlin. It's been a difficult one to make because it will mean a huge change in my life, but … I believe it's the right one. I was so glad when you told me you'd be in Ealdor, as it meant I could see you before I leave."

"Leave?" sputtered Merlin. "What do you mean 'leave'? Where are you going?"

"I've decided to travel to the continent and seek my fate there," answered the dark-haired swordsman in a quiet tone.

"But … what … why are you leaving?" asked Merlin, in a tone of voice that confused Lancelot. Merlin sounded angry and upset, which was understandable, but there was something else there as well. Looking at his friend, Lancelot saw a flash of something in Merlin's eyes; was that fear? or possibly sadness?

"Merlin, listen. This is not a decision I've made lightly. You yourself said that my last couple of letters seemed different. Well, to be honest, I feel a little lost at the moment. I have no home, no position; I'm not a noble so my dream of being a Knight of Camelot will never be fulfilled."

The two men sat quiet, each lost in their own thoughts, when Merlin spoke, "Lancelot, you know that Arthur has great respect for your skills. Who knows, maybe, one day …" The young man's voice trailed away.

"I know Merlin, but I can't spend my life waiting for 'one day'. I have to make something of myself _now_ , and I believe the best way to do that is to travel to France, possibly even to Italy or Spain, and see what the fates have in store for me."

Looking over at the young warlock, who was now staring across the village with a stricken look on his face, Lancelot couldn't help but feel a great sadness. "Merlin," he said, "do you want to know what made this such a difficult decision?"

The sad young man returned his gaze to Lancelot and simply shrugged his shoulders, not saying anything.

"It was you, Merlin. The fact that I was making a decision that would take me from my dearest friend made it almost impossible to bear. Your friendship and your wisdom are more important to me than anything, and I know that once I cross the waters it will be extremely difficult, if not impossible, for us to keep in regular contact. But you have to understand … I _need_ to do this."

"I do understand, Lancelot," said Merlin sadly, "but I'll miss you so much."

Lancelot turned towards the warlock and gripped his shoulder tightly. In a forceful tone he said, "Listen to me, Merlin, and remember what I say: I _will_ return. This land is my home and I have no intention of leaving it forever. I will miss you too, my friend, but I will return and when I do, I promise you will be the first person who knows."

"There is one more thing. We both know that it will be nigh on impossible to exchange letters as we have been doing the past years, but I don't want you to be left wondering what's going on with me, so I have a suggestion."

Lowering his voice, Lancelot continued, "I know you have ways of finding me and I am giving you permission to use whatever methods you have at your disposal to watch over me and see that I am fine. In fact, it would ease my own fears to know that you are keeping an eye on me. Will you do that?"

"Really, Lancelot? You wouldn't mind if I 'peeked in' on you on occasion?"

"Merlin, I wouldn't have suggested it if I wasn't comfortable with it."

Merlin sat and thought about Lancelot's request for a moment and then his face split in a wide grin … the first real smile that Lancelot had seen since his arrival.

"Well, since you don't mind, that is _exactly_ what I'll do. I promise that I won't do it all the time and I'll only check up on you in the evenings, but _you_ have to promise that the minute you set foot back on Britannia you'll get a message to me."

With an answering smile, Lancelot placed his right hand over his heart and said, "I give you my solemn promise."

* * *

Knowing that Lancelot had to leave Ealdor in two days' time, the two men spent every possible moment together, almost as though they were amassing enough memories to carry them through the foreseeable future.

Unbeknownst to them, Hunith spent the same days watching her son and the gentle swordsman with great sadness in her heart. It was obvious that Merlin had not spoken of his feelings to Lancelot and Hunith worried about what would happen to her son during his friend's absence. She also worried for Lancelot and what the future held for him. All she could do was pray to the gods that they would keep both her boys safe until they were together again.

Finally, the day came when Lancelot would start out on his new adventure. Having risen early, Lancelot was sitting on the bench outside the hut when a shadow fell across him and looking over, he saw Merlin standing by, with a look of worry and sadness on his face.

"Don't worry so, Merlin," said Lancelot as he shifted over to make space for his friend on the bench. "I said I'd be back, and that is my solemn vow."

"I know," whispered the young man, "but I just wish it didn't have to be so. But, think of all the adventures you'll experience and all the stories you'll have to tell on your return! I'll just keep looking forward to that and everything will be fine."

All too soon, breakfast was done, Lancelot's horse was saddled and he was ready to make himself a new future. After embracing Hunith and thanking her for every kindness she had shown him over the years, Lancelot took his horse's reins in hand and said, "Merlin, would you walk with me for a moment?"

Hunith stood in the doorway of her home, watching the two men slowly make their way through the village. At the beginning of the treeline, Lancelot halted his horse and turned to face Merlin.

"I have something for you, if you'd like it," he said.

"You got me something?"

"Think of it as a remembrance. Remember last fall you sent me a letter and enclosed a drawing that Cook's niece had done of you? It's a wonderful likeness and I always have it close by me. So … I thought … well, here," and after rummaging through his saddlebag, he handed Merlin a small roll of parchment, tied with a piece of string.

Untying the string and unrolling the parchment, Merlin was amazed to see it was a sketch of Lancelot, and it was a very fine likeness of the young swordsman.

Smiling, Merlin looked up at his friend and said, "Thank you, Lancelot. Thank you so much. I'll treasure it." He then carefully re-rolled the drawing and tied it back up with the string.

"Well, I guess this is good-bye," said Merlin as he watched Lancelot re-buckle the saddlebag and ensure that everything was tied on tight. "I wish you all the best of luck, my friend. I hope you find what you're looking for, and that you return soon."

Lancelot smiled at his young friend and reaching over, pulled him in for a tight hug. "Take care of yourself, and Arthur too," he said. "And I promise to let you know the minute I return."

Lancelot then mounted his horse and with a final wave, turned her towards the east and new adventures.

Merlin stood silently at the edge of the trees, long after he lost sight of his friend, when a hand on his arm surprised him. Pulled from his thoughts, he turned to see his mother standing at his side.

"Are you all right, my little love?" she asked as she slipped her arm through his.

"I'll be fine, Mother. Really. I'm happy for Lancelot and I hope he finds whatever it is he's looking for …"

"But?"

"But I'll miss him."

"Of course you will; you wouldn't be friends if you didn't miss him. But he'll be back, I can feel it. I'm heading back, Merlin. Will you come?"

Not getting any response, Hunith turned and began to head towards to the village. She hadn't gone more than a few steps when she heard a whispered, "Take care, Lancelot, and come home soon," and then Merlin was at her side. Linking arms, they slowly made their way home.


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Once again, huge thanks to my wonderful beta, sarajm!

* * *

 **Together in Spirit** – Chapter 7

The weeks turned into months and soon it was summer again. It had been over a year since Lancelot had embarked on his travels, and much had happened to the man in that time.

As he had told Merlin, the journey was something that he needed to do and, reflecting on his adventures, Lancelot did not regret a single moment. But he was finally back in Britannia and was anxious to get word to Merlin of his return.

The crossing from France had been difficult: three days of endless rain, ferocious winds and waves crashing across the ship's bow ensured that everyone, sailors and travellers alike, pitched in to help ensure they made it safely to land. But no matter; Lancelot may have been tired, battered, bruised and slightly nauseous, but he was elated to be home.

After unloading his horse, Ailen, who had somehow made it through the entire crossing without injury, Lancelot waved good bye to his fellow travellers and set off to find a quiet inn where he could get a clean room, a decent meal and maybe the opportunity to write a short note to Merlin.

As his horse calmly made her way along the well-worn track that led from the wharves to the nearby town of Dover, Lancelot considered what he wanted to tell Merlin about his travels. He'd seen so many exciting things, had spoken with people from countries with religions and practices so different from his own; he had learned new skills from traders, warriors and medicine men. But through it all, he'd felt a yearning for home.

As he travelled along the road, Lancelot cast his thoughts back to one particular evening not long after he'd arrived in France. He had been sitting by his small fire, feeding twigs into the flame and thinking about home, when he suddenly had the sensation of eyes on his back. Looking up, he could see that no one was there. In fact, the birds were still chirping in the trees and he could hear the snuffling of a small mouse in the leaves nearby, so no predators were in the immediate area.

Shrugging his shoulders, he returned to his fire and began spitting the quail that he'd trapped earlier. Yet, the feeling was still there … _someone_ was definitely watching him. Acting very casual, Lancelot placed the spitted bird across the fire and shifted his position so he was now seated closer to his saddlebags and his sword. He reached over towards his bags and just as his hand closed over the soft leather, the feeling was gone. To be sure, Lancelot made a quick reconnaissance of his small camp, but it was just as he thought: no person or animal had come near.

 _Strange_ , he thought as he returned to his fire, enjoyed his meal of roasted quail and oatcakes and soon rolled himself in his blanket to sleep. His night was easy and nothing disturbed him until early the next morning when he woke to bird song.

The feeling of being watched recurred several times. It did not happen regularly; rather, it was often several weeks between occurrences, and Lancelot certainly did not feel at all threatened or uneasy because of the sensation. In fact, it did not take him long to realize that it must be Merlin checking up on him and quickly came to appreciate it … it made him feel protected, cared for.

Lancelot quickly pulled himself from his thoughts as the foot traffic heading into town became heavier. He needed to pay more attention to the road ahead of him, and less attention on his thoughts, in order to avoid the people and the oxen carts laden with goods offloaded from the ships in the harbour.

Passing by one such cart being driven by a young man who looked to be about Merlin's age, Lancelot slowed his horse and called over, "Do you know of a good inn or tavern around here? Preferably one where I can hire a room for a night?"

The young man looked over at the dark-haired horseman now riding beside him; both man and horse looked tired, dishevelled and slightly damp. "Just off one of the boats, are you? Looks like you had a rough time of it. If you're looking for good beer, you can try the Swan's Glory Tavern, which is just up ahead. But, if you're looking for someplace a little quieter, you should try the Blackthorn Inn. It's on the other side of town, but their rooms are clean and the food is excellent."

"The Blackthorn Inn it is then," responded Lancelot. "It was a hard crossing and right now, a little calm and quiet is just what I'm looking for. Thank you."

"My pleasure," said the man. "When you get there, tell them Young Tom sent you and you'll get treated well."

Lancelot smiled and said, "Well, thank you Young Tom. You wouldn't by any chance be related to the owners, would you?" he then asked with a knowing look.

Young Tom flushed a bright red and laughed out loud. "It belongs to my Aunt and Uncle. In fact, that's also where I live, so maybe I'll see you later."

After getting directions from Young Tom, Lancelot urged his horse to pick up the pace and soon enough he found himself approaching a large, two-storied building located just off the road heading out of town. An older woman could be seen at the side of the building, hanging sheets on a line spread between two blackthorn trees and there was a young man standing with her holding a basket of wet laundry.

On hearing the sound of an approaching rider, the woman gestured to the young man and quickly made her way towards Lancelot, who by this time had dismounted and was waiting patiently with his horse.

"Good afternoon, Sir," called the woman as she approached. "Can I help you? Are you looking for a room, or can I tempt you with a home-cooked meal?"

"Good afternoon, Ma'am," answered Lancelot. "I would like to hire a room for a few days, if you have any free." Gesturing to himself he added, "As you can see, I've just made the crossing from France and it was a bit of a wild ride. I would dearly love the chance to change my clothing and enjoy a meal without having to hold onto my plate for fear it slide off the table!"

Laughing, the woman signalled to the young man who was just coming around the side of building. "Rafe, take this man's horse to the stables and tell Chris to take good care of her. And you, young sir, you come with me and I'll get you a room and show you where you can bathe. By the way, my name is Liz. My husband, Tom, and I run this Inn, and you are most welcome."

"Thank you, Liz," answered Lancelot as he followed her into the dim, cool building. "My name is Lancelot. I met a kinsman of yours on the road who kindly directed me to this place. I believe he said his name was 'Young Tom'."

Liz laughed and said, "Let me guess, a young red-head driving an ox cart? Yes, that's my husband's sister's son. He's a good lad, and a big help to us. I hope he didn't make you feel obligated to stop here?"

"No," answered Lancelot with a grin of his own, "in fact, he made certain to mention that I'd be passing by a tavern with very good beer, if that was what I was seeking. But his mention of quiet rooms and good food won me over immediately!"

"Well Lancelot, I can definitely guarantee quiet rooms and people from around here are always complimenting my cooking. Come with me, and I'll show you to your room."

Liz led the bedraggled swordsman up a flight of stairs and down a hallway, stopping by a door on the right. "This will be your room. It looks out over the back of the building, so you shouldn't be disturbed by noises from the street, or the tap room in the front. There is a bathing room at the side of the Inn near the stables and if you give me about ten minutes, I can have Rafe heat up some water for you."

Looking in to the room, Lancelot saw that it was furnished with a bed with a blanket box sitting at its foot, a small desk with a chair and there was even a braided rug on the floor beside the bed. There was also an abundance of candles on the table that sat beneath the large, shuttered window. Liz went over and throwing open the shutters said, "You can order a meal at any time in the tap room. Today we have a venison stew with root vegetables."

Looking around the homey room, Lancelot smiled and said, "This is a lovely room, Liz, and a bath sounds wonderful! Thank you."

"You are most welcome. Like I said, give me about ten minutes and the bathing room will be ready for you." Liz then headed out the door, and Lancelot could hear her calling as she made her way down the stairs, "Rafe, go light the brazier in the bathing room and make sure the cauldron is filled with water." A bang pulled Lancelot towards the now-open window and he saw Rafe hurrying towards a small out building with some kindling in his arms.

Before heading for his bath, Lancelot stopped by the stables to see how Ailen was faring. She was in a stall near the front of the building, dozing in the bright sunlight that was streaming in the open door and seeming very content. As Lancelot neared, she opened her eyes and stretched out her neck, looking for a scratching.

Lancelot laughed and said fondly, "Go on, old girl. You're a lazy one, aren't you?" as he patted her neck and then gave her a scratching between her ears. As he was talking to his horse, a young boy approached and said, very earnestly, "Good afternoon, Sir. I hope everything is okay with your horse. I've given her a good brushing and I've made sure she's got food and water. Are you going to be staying overnight?"

"Good afternoon, young sir," responded Lancelot. "You've done a lovely job with Ailen; thank you very much. I will be staying for a couple of nights. And please, call me Lancelot."

The boy smiled and answered, "My name is Chris. Well, actually, it's Christopher, but everyone calls me Chris. Your bags are over there in the corner. I'd be happy to bring your bags to your room if you like; consider it part of the service," he added with a cheeky grin.

Chris' dark hair, slight build and the grin he now wore reminded Lancelot of Merlin and he suddenly remembered his promise to let his friend know when he was back in Britannia. "Well, Chris, I'd be most obliged if you would take care of the bags. But I have a question for you … do you know where I can purchase some writing materials? I have a letter to write and I've neither quill nor parchment."

Picking up Lancelot's bags, Chris said, "Oh, I'm pretty sure my uncle has some parchment and stuff in the tap room. I'll see if I can find any and leave them for you in your room, if you'd like."

"Once again, Chris, I'd be most obliged if you would. Thank you."

Lancelot watched young Chris scurry out of the stables and towards the Inn calling "Uncle Thomas, Uncle Thomas" before he disappeared into the building through a side door.

 _Quite the family business_ , he thought as he gave Ailen one last pat and then headed towards the bathing room and a well-earned bath.

It was early evening when Lancelot finally sat down at the small desk in his room, a lit candle at his side and a sheet of clean parchment in front of him. Gathering his thoughts, he began to write:

 _Dear Merlin_

 _I can't tell you how happy I am to be able to tell you that I am finally home!_

 _The past thirteen months have been absolutely amazing: the things I learned, the people and places and I saw … I don't think I will ever be able to find the words to say how much I enjoyed my travels. I have so much to tell you, but I'd need reams of parchment to do so!_

 _So, first off though, let me say that I missed you and thought of you often during my time on the Continent. Numerous times I would see something and think "if only Merlin could see this". I hope things are well with you and you've been keeping out of trouble (or as best you can!) while I was away._

 _The crossing from France was rather arduous – very stormy weather and high seas made for a difficult sailing – but both Ailen and I made it through; a little battered and bruised on my part, but still in one piece! I think both of us need some time to recover, so I believe I will be staying here in Dover for at least a few days._

 _While I cannot go into great depth in a letter describing all I saw during my travels (I promise to give you the whole story over a mug or two of mead when we next meet), I can say that I spent several months travelling around France before heading to Spain._

 _Spain is a different world, Merlin. The colours are brighter, the buildings so different from what we see here, the people and religions so varied. And the horses! They have a breed of horse there called an Andalusian and it is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. Large, strong and with great stamina, they make the Spanish riders a force to be reckoned with. Yet, for their great size, they are surprisingly gentle and very easy to train. And, let me tell you, they are expensive (don't tell Ailen, but they are worth any amount from what I saw)._

 _I spent a number of months travelling through Spain, hiring myself out as guard to several Merchants caravans and once as bodyguard to a travelling nobleman. I visited the cities of Pamplona, Toledo and Barcelona and even made a pilgrimage to Santiago de Compostela._

 _I think my time away, while difficult, has proven to be of great benefit to me. After meeting so many different people from different cultures and experiencing strange new ways of living, I believe I now know what I want to do with my life. I want to make a difference, Merlin. I've seen how things can be and I believe some of these ideals can be made into reality here, and I want to be a part of that._

 _From what I've seen of him, Arthur believes as I do and I look forward to the day when his dreams for the future come to fruition. Until then, I'll keep on honing my skills and hopefully I will be able to part of that grand dream, at some point._

 _But what about you, Merlin? How have you been these past months? And how is Hunith? I trust you are well and becoming the great man I know you are._

 _Would it be at all possible for you to get some free time when we can meet? I would truly like nothing better than to see you and find out everything that you've been up to recently._

 _As I mentioned, I will be staying here in Dover for a while and then I will begin to make my way towards Camelot's border. As long as the weather holds, I should be at the border of Mercia and Camelot about two weeks from now. I will let you know once I've arrived in Riverend and hopefully you can meet me there._

 _Merlin, I must go now, but I send you my best wishes and my hopes that I will see you soon._

 _Your friend,_

 _Lancelot_

After speaking with Thomas about arranging delivery of his letter, Lancelot entered the tap room and ordered a mug of beer. Sitting at a small table in the corner of the room with his drink, Lancelot began watching the people seated around him. It was the typical collection of travellers, merchants and locals, all of whom appeared to be enjoying their evening. There was one person, though, who seemed oblivious to all that was going on around him. A large, muscled blond was sitting, like Lancelot, alone at a small table, staring into his mug.

There was an air of sadness about the man and it made Lancelot wonder. When one of the serving girls passed close by he signalled to her.

Making her way to Lancelot's side, she said, "Can I get you another?"

"Please," he responded. "And maybe you can answer a question. Who is that man over there?" he asked as he gestured to the tall, silent man.

Looking over, the girl responded, "Oh, his name is Percival. He showed up here about two weeks ago, looking like his last friend had been taken from him. Thomas took pity on him and offered him a place to stay if he was willing to help out with some of the heavier chores. He doesn't say much and, you know, I think this is the first time I've seen him in here. He usually spends evenings in his room."

Watching the man from the corner of his eye while the girl was talking, Lancelot said, "Hmm. Would you also please bring me a mug of whatever he is drinking."

The girl looked at Percival and then at Lancelot and said, "Of course. You know, for all that he is so big and so silent, he seems a really nice man. Maybe you'll have more luck getting to know him than any of us has." She wove her way back to the bar and soon returned, placing two mugs on the table in front of Lancelot. "Good luck," she said quietly as she headed towards another table of men looking for refills.

Lancelot picked up the two mugs and made his way across the room. Stopping in front of the large man, he placed a mug in front of him and said, "Do you mind if I join you? My name is Lancelot."

The man looked up, surprised at first, and then gestured to the empty chair across from him. "Please, have a seat," he said. Once Lancelot was seated, the man picked up his mug, took a sip and then added, "Thank you for this. I'm Percival."

And that was how the friendship between Lancelot and Percival started – over several mugs of beer, conversation, and a mutual recognition that the other was a good man who had also experienced difficult times.

Percival and Lancelot had been sitting and talking for close to two hours when Lancelot yawned. "Oh, excuse me," he said. "I've had a full day and I think I'm for bed. It was a pleasure to meet you Percival. Maybe we can do this again tomorrow night."

"I'd like that," said the big man as he stood from the table. "Good night, Lancelot. I'm sure I'll see you tomorrow at some point."

* * *

The next day Lancelot spent wandering around Dover, purchasing those essentials that he would need on his trip to Riverend. He'd also dropped off his saddle at the saddlers; after a year of travelling it was badly in need of some repairs and stitching. Thomas had confirmed to him that morning that his letter to Merlin was presently in the hands of a group of tinkers who were headed in the direction of Camelot and who were more than willing to deliver the letter for a few coins, so it didn't worry Lancelot that it would take about a week for the repairs to his saddle to be completed. He had plenty of time to relax and enjoy the sights and sounds of Dover.

A quick stop by the stables that afternoon to check up on Ailen showed what a day's rest and good food could do. The mare was looking sleek and well-fed and was feeling frisky. Lancelot knew his horse's moods as well as he knew his own and it was obvious she was ready to continue their journeying. "Enjoy the quiet time," he told his horse as he patted her neck. "I've got to wait for my saddle, and then we'll be on our way again."

As he left the stables heading towards the Inn, Lancelot literally ran into Percival, who was coming from around the side of the building, his arms laden with wood. Fortunately, neither man was moving quick enough to cause damage to the other, but still Lancelot reached out his hand to ensure Percival stayed on his feet.

"Percival, I was wondering where you'd got to; I haven't seen you all day. Are you almost done? I was thinking of ordering dinner shortly and would appreciate some company."

Percival smiled at the shorter man and said, "I was just thinking the same thing. Give me about twenty minutes to get cleaned up and I'll meet you in the tap room. Will that be all right?"

"That's perfect! I'll see you shortly," responded Lancelot, as he headed towards the Inn while Percival continued on towards the wood pile to drop off the load in his arms.

The two men sat at the same table as the previous evening and enjoyed their dinner and some excellent beer. Percival had not told Lancelot exactly why he was working odd jobs at the inn, but it was obvious the man was simply biding his time. The one thing Lancelot could tell was that something terrible had happened recently to Percival; it was apparent from the look of pain and loss that sometimes appeared across his face.

Though they had only met the previous day, Lancelot realized that he liked the large, quiet man. He also recognized the pain that seemed to engulf Percival; Lancelot had experienced something very similar when he lost his family and he began to wonder if Percival had a comparable story to tell. Watching the other man stare into his beer, Lancelot made a decision.

"Percival," he began, "I don't mean to pry, but is everything all right? You seem almost … lost. Can I help you in any way?"

Percival looked up with such a look of sadness in his eyes that it made Lancelot's breath catch. "Actually, Lancelot, everything is not all right, but I can't speak of it right now. Maybe at some point, but it's all still too new. I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize, my friend. I'm sorry if I've upset you." After taking another sip from his mug, the swordsman said, "May I ask you something?"

At Percival's slight nod, Lancelot continued, "It's obvious to me that you're just filling time by working here. Are you heading somewhere in particular? Do you have a plan for your future? I can't believe you'll be content spending the rest of your life chopping wood."

Percival looked over at his new-found friend and said, "You're right. I've been working here mainly because the physical labour I do during the day ensures that I'm so tired by nightfall that I can sleep for a few hours without the nightmares. But, I do have a plan. I'm actually heading to Haldor, in Mercia, where I have some distant family. I don't intend to stay there, but I've been feeling the need to visit. I'll probably head off in the next few days."

"Mercia?" asked Lancelot. "Really? Well, that's quite a coincidence. I'm on my way to Riverend, on the border with Camelot. I'm hoping to meet up with a friend there. I was planning on leaving in about a week's time as the repairs to my saddle will take that much time. If you don't mind waiting, we could travel together at least to Riverend. It will be safer and to be honest, I'd appreciate the company."

"You know, Lancelot, I think I'd like that very much. I, too, would rather travel with company than alone. I can be ready to depart at any time that suits; I'll just have to let Thomas and Liz know when our plans are settled. They've been more than kind to me the past weeks and I would like to give them at least a day's warning."

"So it's settled; we'll leave for Riverend in a week's time."

* * *

About a week after Lancelot had handed over his letter for delivery, Merlin was in the Lower Town making a few deliveries for Gaius. He was just exiting the last house when he heard a commotion coming from outside The Rising Sun. Looking over, he could see a group of about 15 people, three horse-drawn carts, and a goat, all milling about creating havoc in the street.

The tavern keeper was talking with two of the newcomers, obviously showing them where they could store their belongings. Merlin was smiling at the hubbub as he walked by, when he suddenly heard his name.

"Merlin," called the tavern keeper. Gesturing to a young boy standing beside him, he added, "Someone's looking for you."

Merlin turned back towards the tavern as the young lad ran up and said, "You're Merlin? I've got a letter for you." Reaching into the bag hanging at his side, the boy pulled out a folder piece of parchment and handed it over.

"Thank you," said Merlin, as he accepted the letter. His duty completed, the boy turned back towards the group of newcomers when Merlin called, "Hold on a minute. Here, in thanks," and he handed over a small piece of peppermint candy wrapped in a scrap of waxed linen that he'd had in his pocket.

"Oooh, thanks!" said the boy as he quickly stuffed the candy into his mouth and hurried away with a smile.

Looking down at the travel-stained parchment in his hand, a grin began to bloom across the warlock's face. Even after a year's time, he could recognize Lancelot's hand. Holding the letter tight in his hand, Merlin ran up towards the castle, through the courtyard, and straight to his chambers.

Merlin burst through the door and skidded to a stop, gasping for breath. His sudden entry surprised Gaius, so much so that he dropped the vial in his hand and a bright orange liquid began to flow across the table and drip onto the floor.

"Merlin!" snapped the physician, as he grabbed a nearby cloth and began wiping up the mess. "What's gotten into you, boy? You nearly took ten years off my life, running in like that. Is everything all right?"

"Gaius, I'm so sorry," said Merlin as he hurried over to the table. "Here, let me clean that up … um … it's not dangerous is it?" he asked as he removed the damp cloth from Gaius' hand.

"No, Merlin, it's not dangerous. But you should be more careful, because the next time it just might be. Now, what's gotten you in such a tizzy that you ran in here like the Hounds of Hell were after you?"

Now on his hands and knees on the floor, wiping up the last of the spill, Merlin answered from under the table, "Everything's fine, Gaius. In fact, things couldn't be better! I got a letter … from Lancelot! A tinker's lad just gave it to me and I desperately wanted to read it so I came here on a run. I _am_ sorry I ruined your potion; I wasn't thinking I was so excited."

Gaius chuckled at the young man's earnestness. "Well, Merlin, that certainly explains your enthusiastic entrance! If you're done down there, give me the cloth and you can go read your letter."

A sudden _bang_ caused the heavy table to shift slightly on its legs and then Gaius heard a low "Owwww". Merlin soon emerged, rubbing his head and with a rueful look on his face.

Laughing, Gaius said, "Merlin, you're supposed to back out from under the table _before_ you stand up! Go read your letter before you do yourself any more damage," he added fondly.

Merlin smiled, handed Gaius the now-dirty cloth, picked up his letter from where he'd dropped it on a bench and bounded up the five stairs to his room. Setting himself comfortably on his bed, Merlin slid a finger under the seal and cracked it open.

Opening the letter and seeing his friend's familiar handwriting brought back to Merlin once again how much he had missed Lancelot. Oh, he had not been idle during the past thirteen months; in fact, he had been busier than he'd ever expected. But even so, he had often thought of his friend and wondered how he was doing. Merlin had even, on a few occasions when he particularly missed Lancelot, used a spell to look in on Lancelot and make sure his friend was doing well.

The first time he'd done so was only a couple of days after the dark-haired man had left Ealdor, and though he had felt a bit guilty about spying on his friend, Merlin consoled himself with the knowledge that he had Lancelot's express permission to do so.

It wasn't difficult magic, and gazing into the shallow bowl of water he'd placed on the table, Merlin could see Lancelot sitting beside a small fire, feeding in some twigs, a bird of some type resting on the ground beside him, ready for the flame. Lancelot looked calm and relaxed and Merlin watched him place his dinner on the fire and then shift over and reach for his saddlebag. Content in the knowledge that Lancelot had safely made the crossing to France, he backed away from the bowl ending the spell and headed down the short flight of stairs from his room to his own dinner waiting on the table.

After that first time, Merlin used the spell on several occasions when he felt the need to check up on his friend and each time, he was reassured that Lancelot was thriving in his adventures. While it didn't help make up for the separation, at least Merlin could carry on knowing his friend was well.

Shaking his head slightly, Merlin leaned back and began to read Lancelot's news. The first sentence was enough to make him call down to Gaius, "He's home, Gaius. Lancelot is home!"

Settling his small pillow at his back, Merlin read the rest of the letter with a huge smile on his face. He laughed at Lancelot's description of the Spanish horses. _Only Lancelot_ , he thought, _would spend so much time telling me about horses of all things!_ By the time he reached the end of the missive, Merlin was delighted to read Lancelot's suggestion that they try to meet up in Riverend.

Reading Lancelot's letter brought all of Merlin's feelings for his friend flooding back. Time and distance had not changed his feelings for Lancelot; in fact, they had been come even stronger.

While Lancelot was on the continent, it had been easy for Merlin to pretend that what he felt for the man was nothing more than friendship. But now, holding confirmation in his hand that the swordsman was back and wanted to see him, Merlin was a little panicked. _At least I'll have a week to get my emotions under control_ , he thought. _I couldn't bear it if I let my true feelings show and Lancelot ignores or rejects them. At least I know I have his friendship. That will have to do._

Folding the letter and secreting it with the others he'd saved over the years, Merlin headed down the five steps to the main room and Gaius, wanting to share with his mentor the contents of Lancelot's letter and the plan to meet up in Riverend.


	8. Chapter 8

Here it is – the last chapter and where it finally earns the "T" rating. I hope you enjoy it (this whole story came to be mainly because I wanted to write the ending).

As always, huge thanks to my most excellent beta, sarajm.

* * *

 **Together in Spirit** – Chapter 8

"A _picnic_?" asked Merlin in a surprised tone. "You want to take _Gwen_ on a _picnic_?"

"Yes, MERlin, I want to take Gwen on a picnic, but I need your help," answered Arthur, blushing slightly.

"Of _course_ you do," said Merlin with a smirk. Noticing the glare Arthur was sending at him, Merlin raised his hands and said, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Of course I'll help. What do you need me to do?"

Leaving Arthur's chambers after having been sworn to secrecy about the plans for the next day, Merlin couldn't help but laugh at both Arthur and Gwen. Arthur, so in love with Gwen but not quite ready to admit it, even to himself; and Gwen, smitten in turn but so concerned about propriety. They'd make the perfect pair, if they could ever make it past their insecurities!

Merlin was also very happy that Arthur had told him, in no uncertain terms, that once he delivered Gwen to the picnic site tomorrow, he was to "leave us alone, Merlin, under pain of death". That fit in perfectly with his own plans; he had received a message from Lancelot that morning stating that the swordsman had arrived in Riverend and planned to stay there for a couple of days. The warlock had actually been heading to Arthur's chambers to ask if he could have an afternoon of freedom, but now he was being told to "stay away" tomorrow. It couldn't have worked out better!

The next morning, Merlin made his way to Gwen's house to escort her to where Arthur was waiting. As the serving girl appeared from the back of the room, all he could do was stare.

"What?" asked Gwen, looking slightly uneasy.

"You look lovely," said Merlin with a smile. "Come on, Arthur's waiting."

After safely delivering Gwen, Merlin quickly made his way back to Camelot and the stables, where his horse was already saddled and waiting. Grabbing the water skin that one of the stable lads had kindly prepared for him, Merlin mounted his horse and was soon cantering through the main gates and along the road to Riverend.

It wouldn't take much more than an hour to reach the town, and Merlin was feeling very antsy: he wanted to arrive _now_ , but he also wanted the trip to take all day, for he needed time to compose himself and prepare to see Lancelot for the first time in over a year.

The road to Riverend was lightly travelled, so Merlin covered the distance quite quickly. Lancelot had said in his letter than he had a room at The Goat and Compass, one of the two taverns in the town, and he would be sure to stay close for the next few days so Merlin wouldn't have to go searching for him.

About an hour after he left Camelot, the warlock found himself on the edge of the village, stuck in the midst of a large crowd of people and livestock, and very, _very_ slowly making his way through the town. He was so excited to finally see his friend that Merlin had completely forgotten that today was market day.

Meanwhile, Lancelot was sitting at a table outside the tavern, watching the road and keenly examining everyone in the hopes that he would soon spot his friend. He and Percival had arrived in Riverend the day earlier. The journey from Dover had been pleasant and the more time he spent in Percival's company, the more he grew to like the large, reserved man.

Lancelot had also finally heard Percival's story. It was their third night on the road and while they were sitting by their fire, Percival had suddenly started speaking. The horrific tale he told of his family slaughtered and his village burned to the ground, all due to Cenred's men, made Lancelot's blood run cold. It was no wonder the man carried such an air of sorrow about him.

Lancelot grieved with his friend over the loss of his family and his friends; he understood Percival's sorrow because he had experienced something similar years earlier. After listening to his friend's story, Lancelot wondered if by speaking of it, Percival might suffer anew; but that did not happen. It was as if by telling his story, there was a weight lifted from the man's shoulders. Ever since that night, Percival seemed a changed man. Oh, he was still quiet, but he smiled more and even joked with Lancelot on occasion.

That morning, Percival had departed Riverend on his way to Haldor, and Lancelot had agreed to meet him there in three days' time. _Now I just hope Merlin was able to get some free time_ , he thought to himself as he took a sip from the mug before him.

Right then, he felt a compulsion come over him and looking up, he caught a glimpse of Merlin leading his horse through the busy marketplace. Lancelot felt his face break into a smile as he studied his friend. Gone was the lad he'd met those many years ago; this was a _man_ coming towards him. And changed – older, yes, and taller too; but there was an air about him that was new.

Watching Merlin tie his horse to a hitching post, Lancelot was struck with two thoughts. Merlin seemed to have grown into his skin; there was a confidence about him now that impressed the swordsman. The second thought, and one that surprised him slightly, was _Oh how I have missed him_.

Lancelot continued to watch his friend and when it was obvious Merlin would have trouble finding him through the crowd, he stood and called out, "Merlin! Over here!"

Just as he was about to enter the building, Merlin turned at the sound of the familiar voice and Lancelot was soon striding towards him with a huge smile on his face.

"Lancelot," cried Merlin as he hurried towards his friend. As they neared, Lancelot reached out and pulled Merlin into a crushing hug, which the warlock eagerly returned. A few manly slaps on the back and the two separated and began talking at the same time.

"I can't believe you're really here, Merlin …"

"Lancelot, you look great …"

Realizing they were talking over each other, the two men started to laugh and Lancelot gestured to the table he'd been sitting at and said, "Let's sit down and start over!"

Signalling to one of the serving girls for another mug, the two men sat down and, for a moment, just looked at each other not saying anything.

With a laugh, Merlin said, "Well, I'll start! Lancelot, you look fantastic; it seems like your journeying did you a world of good. I want to hear all about your adventures. I've got all day to spend with you, as I'm not expected back at Camelot until just before dinner. So … start talking!"

"Ah, Merlin, I can't tell you how good it is to see you," answered the swordsman. "The things I've seen and the people I've met – I had the most amazing experience. First off, the crossing to France went well and once I arrived on French soil …."

The two men talked through the morning, continued talking while eating a meal served to them at the table where they were sitting, and carried on into the early afternoon. Lancelot told Merlin all about his travels, the wonder of the cities, the incredible new foods and spices and especially the horses that he fell in love with. Lancelot also told Merlin a bit about Percival, not the man's sad story, but simply that he had met up with a man who was in a similar situation as himself and they had decided to travel together for a while.

Merlin, for his part, regaled Lancelot with tales of his adventures in Camelot. He spoke of the loss and then return of Morgana, the rescue of Gwen's brother from captivity, the reappearance of Gaius' old love and the growing feelings between Arthur and Gwen.

By the time the two men had finished speaking, it was as if they had never been parted. Their friendship was as strong as ever, and possibly even more so.

The day, though, was waning and after Merlin drained the last of the mead from his mug, he turned to Lancelot and said, "I'm afraid I must be going soon. I don't like to be away from Camelot for too long."

Looking over at his friend, and seeing the serious look that now graced the warlock's face, Lancelot answered, "Merlin, what's going on? I can tell you're concerned about something. Can I help?"

Merlin smiled at Lancelot and said, "Always wanting to help. You are such a good friend, Lancelot. Yes, I am concerned about something." Looking around to see that they would not be overheard, Merlin then leaned in close to Lancelot and said, in a low tone, "It's Morgana. Things have not been the same since she returned to Camelot and both Gaius and I are concerned that she's plotting something. She's so very different now, and there's a darkness in her that wasn't there before. I don't like being away from Arthur or Camelot for any extended time, because I'm afraid of what might happen."

Lancelot's brows drew together and he grew solemn as he listened to what Merlin had to say. "Ahh," he said, once Merlin had finished, "that may explain some of the rumours I've heard."

"Rumours?" asked Merlin. "Tell me."

"It's all very vague, Merlin. I haven't heard anyone's name specifically, but I've heard mentions of unease in Camelot and apparently Cenred is involved with … someone or something. Once again, nothing specific. But now I wonder if it isn't all connected with your fears."

The two men sat at the table, lost in their own thoughts, each trying to make sense of what the other said and to see if there was a connection. Finally, Merlin nodded his head and said, "I think you're right, Lancelot. I think this is all connected somehow. I must get back to Arthur, and I need to speak with Gaius about all this. I'm sorry to have to rush off like this, my friend."

"Merlin, don't worry; I understand. Besides, I'm home now to stay so if you ever need me, please don't hesitate to send for me. I'm leaving Riverend tomorrow morning and will be in Haldor by mid-day. I'm not sure what my plans are after that, but I'll make a point of sticking close by, just in case."

The two men rose from the table and made their way to the small corral where Merlin's horse was tied. Once she was saddled, Merlin and Lancelot embraced. "I can't tell you how good it is to see you again, Merlin," said Lancelot as he released his friend.

"I know, Lancelot. I feel the same. Hopefully my fears are unfounded and we'll be able to meet up again soon." Merlin mounted his horse and leaning down, he clasped Lancelot's arm and said, "In the meantime, take care of yourself."

"I will, Merlin. And you be careful, too; goodness knows what you're heading into. And don't forget, if you need me just let me know and I'll be there as soon as I possibly can."

"Thank you, Lancelot. I'll see you soon," answered the warlock as he turned his horse towards Camelot and hurried off.

Watching his friend cantering down the road, Lancelot whispered, "Take care, Merlin. I couldn't bear it if something happened to you." As Merlin disappeared around a bend, Lancelot turned back to the tavern with the intention of preparing his gear for his departure the next morning.

* * *

It was not long after their meeting in Riverend that Merlin and Lancelot learned the depths of Morgana's treachery. The Cup of Life, once kept safe by the Druids, was now in the hands of Morgause, who was working in conjunction with Cenred. Camelot was surrounded by an immortal army, the King was imprisoned and Morgana was now sitting on the throne.

Knowing they would need all the help they could get, when he learned of the army marching on Camelot Merlin had written a short note to Lancelot.

 _Lancelot – hopefully this will reach you quickly. Arthur needs your help;_ _I_ _need your help. Cenred is marching on Camelot as I write this. Morgana has betrayed us. Please, come quickly._

 _Merlin_

Rushing off to find a Royal Messenger, Merlin handed him the note and then lied to the man saying, "Prince Arthur needs this delivered to Haldor, immediately. And be careful!" Merlin watched as the man secreted the note in his bag and headed off at a run towards the stables. _Let's hope Lancelot is still in Haldor_ , he thought has he headed back towards his chambers.

Not too many days later, Arthur and Merlin watched from the balcony of the throne room as Morgana declared herself Queen of Camelot. Knowing there was nothing they could do at the moment, Merlin pulled Arthur away. The two men hurried out of the castle towards the Darkling Woods where they knew Gwaine, Elyan and Gaius were waiting.

Having found shelter in a cave, those few who had managed to escape Camelot wondered what to do. Arthur was despondent; his heart had been broken by Morgana's treachery. He was stuck in a deepening spiral of anger and hurt over Morgana's betrayal, worry about his father, and fear over Gwen's safety. It took some coaxing, but Merlin eventually got through to Arthur and the man finally began to crawl his way out of his personal darkness and began picking at the food Merlin had placed before him.

A cry of "We've been found! They're almost upon us!" broke up the joyous reunion of Sir Leon and Gwen with the ragtag bunch and they were soon fleeing for their lives. They were running through the trees when a sudden call of "Look out!" and a fall of rocks blocked the path behind them, separating them from their pursuers. Looking up, Arthur could see a large blond man in chain mail standing at the end of the ravine. Then another, familiar face appeared. Lancelot smiled down at the group and said "We need to hurry."

Seeing Lancelot standing above them, Merlin felt a wave of relief wash over him. By the time Percival and Lancelot had joined them, Merlin couldn't stop smiling. On seeing his dearest friend, Merlin raised an eyebrow at him and chuckled. _Together again_ , he thought. Almost as if he could read his friend's mind, Lancelot grinned at Merlin as if to say _What have you gotten yourselves into_ _this_ _time?_

The two men did not have any chance for a reunion just then as escaping from Morgana's forces was obviously the priority. As soon as Lancelot had introduced Percival to the group, Arthur told them about a deserted castle where they could hide out for the night and work out a strategy to free Camelot and restore Uther to the throne.

* * *

Night fell, and soon the only sounds that could be heard in the deserted castle were the squeaking of mice and the rustling of clothing as everyone tried to make themselves comfortable and get some sleep.

Merlin and Lancelot took themselves off a bit from the others and spreading out their blankets, they lay side by side on the castle floor. Merlin grinned at Lancelot, saying "You're a knight. At last."

Looking over at his smiling face of his dearest friend, it finally came home to Lancelot how important Merlin really was to him. Lancelot valued their friendship above everything else, but over the years his feelings for the other man had deepened. He now knew that he wanted more than Merlin's friendship; he wanted Merlin's love. But how to tell him this without ruining what they had between them? Merlin had never given Lancelot any indication that what he felt for the newly-named Knight was anything more than a deep and steadfast friendship.

 _I can't go on like this. I have to say something_ , thought Lancelot. Taking a deep breath, he turned to Merlin and said, "You know, Merlin, you're the one Arthur should knight. You're the bravest of us all and he doesn't even know it."

"He can't. Not yet," responded Merlin. "That's why I need to find a way to get to the Cup without Arthur knowing."

"Leave that to me," answered Lancelot. "I've got an idea." Then Lancelot cleared his throat and swallowed heavily. Propping himself up on his right arm, he turned to his dearest friend and said, "Merlin there's something I must tell you. I wasn't going to say anything, but considering what we're going to be facing tomorrow, I couldn't just let the chance go by …"

"Shhh," whispered Merlin, "I know." The dark-haired warlock shifted a bit on his blanket and turned his face towards Lancelot's. Though the room was dim, Lancelot could see that Merlin wore a gentle smile, and as he gazed into Lancelot's dark brown eyes, the Knight saw that Merlin's blue eyes were filled with such an expression of love that it made him want to weep for joy.

"Lancelot," continued Merlin in a quiet undertone, "I want this too. I've wanted it for a long time, but I was so afraid to speak. Thank you for being brave. I promise that tomorrow will not be an ending, rather it will be _our_ beginning."

The two men stared at each other a few seconds more, and then Lancelot spoke. "Well, okay then. Good. Um … I suppose we should get some rest as there will be much to do tomorrow."

Lying back down, Lancelot tucked his left hand under his head and turned his face towards his love as he set his right hand down at his side. He closed his eyes, but his mind was so full of wonder that he was sure he would not be able to sleep. Then Lancelot felt a gentle touch on his hand and he felt Merlin's pinkie wind about his. Lancelot twined their fingers together and lifting their joined hands, he placed a gentle kiss on the inside of Merlin's wrist. He could feel his love's pulse thrumming beneath his lips and was overjoyed to hear Merlin's quiet gasp at the sensation.

Lancelot then lowered their hands to floor, but kept their fingers wrapped about each other's. The two lovers gazed at each other in the dim glow of the fire's ashes and soon drifted off to sleep, to dream of a new future bound together by their love.

The End (or possibly, A New Beginning)

* * *

A/N: So there it is: my very first chapter story. Thanks so much to everyone who helped me straighten out some plot points when I got stuck (Moonfox, ElizabethDawn, Eloeehez, Vaughntronic and Narlth were a huge help one evening in the chatroom). Thanks to everyone who read and reviewed and encouraged me and … and … and.

And finally, huge thanks to my superb, wonderful, excellent beta, sarajm, who even though she was being overrun with RL always managed to find the time to read, correct and make excellent comments on every chapter.


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